


Recurrence

by legendarytobes



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Body Horror, Brotp, Case Fic, Ella Knows, F/F, F/M, Gen, Post 4.09 Save Lucifer, devil body issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-05-14 20:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 78,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19281010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes/pseuds/legendarytobes
Summary: Goes alternate universe after 4.09 (Save Lucifer). Lucifer's relegated to desk duty by a concerned Chloe after the masquerade at Lux. Meanwhile devil power flare-ups mean he needs help to get everything under control and truly forgiven before he can get back to work or his life. Cue the help of an over eager forensic scientist who's seen too much and yet is still rolling with the punches.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason this wouldn't update to a new day as I added new chapters so I reposted the whole fic with its current four chapters.
> 
> Additionally: This is mostly a gen fic but does reference some established relationships in this story like Maze/Eve and Amenadiel/Linda. Even though neither relationship is really a story focus as this is mostly gen fic and case fic.

**Chapter One**

He knew it was a mistake the second he walked into her corner of the precinct. To say things had been complicated this year was an understatement. He was the Devil, it wasn’t like he had easy times, although, the five years of hedonism and drunken nights at Lux were far simpler and safer than the last few solving murders. He wasn’t sure if that was his fault or Amenadiel’s. They’d been in a holding pattern for those first five years, and then his brother got restless, pulled Malcolm from Hell and everything had spiraled from there with Mum and Cain. With Chloe finding out the truth. With both he and his brother beginning to understand how angels worked.

 

Or more accurately didn’t quite.

 

Not that he’d ever been one to refrain from complaining about dear old Dad and his flaws but lazy design hadn’t been on the list until the stupidity of self-actualization had been shoved in his face. And then made its way in burnt and bloody flesh down every inch of his body. Maybe not including that skillset in the angel model would have given them more of a sporting chance. Then again, this had never been an issue in the Silver City. He and Amenadiel weren’t living typical lives, if such a thing could be said of Celestials. Oh and on that note, maybe that extra day could have been used on humans too, iron out some of their issues. With a seventh day under his belt, maybe Dad could have made them less fragile. His life would be less painful if the humans in his care weren’t being shot at all the time or almost killed by fire and explosions.

_Dear Dad, if you’d asked me about engineering…_

 

Yeah, that would happen.

 

But he knew as he strode to the detective’s desk that he’d misread the break he’d had. Three weeks ago his own epiphany---and what was the bloody point of such things if they only made life _worse_ \---had rendered him, well, incapacitated was the kind word for it. The honest one and thus the one he’d think to himself was _monstrous_. And even if the detective had shown strength after Kinley Lucifer hadn’t known she’d had, even if she’d coaxed him back to at least the idea of some day forgiving himself, he could kid himself that it hadn’t affected her too. And deeply.

 

After all, why hadn’t she called him in to any case since the twin realtor murder?

 

Three weeks was the longest they’d gone without working together since they’d started, outside of her damned trip to Rome, and while the excuse of Charlie’s birth could be a reason, they both know it wasn’t really why he’d been benched.

 

The detective eyed him, her eyes blinking a bit too quickly and her posture stilted. He knew that look well. It had rankled him and set off warning bells during the beekeeper case. Chloe Decker might have been one of the best cops in Los Angeles, but she had the worst poker face he’d ever seen. She couldn’t cover her distress if her immortal soul depended on it. Not that it did. Even if miracles clearly weren’t allotted the fast pass to Heaven, he’d never allow her anywhere else.

 

“Don’t be too surprised to see me,” he said, trying for levity with his voice.

 

The detective sat up straighter and pushed her chair away from her desk. “This is a surprise.”

 

Ah, there it was. That false brightness, and he could hear her “Everything’s okay” echoing again in his head. There was no surer sign an apocalypse was on the horizon than Chloe being cheerful.

 

“It shouldn’t be,” he continued. “Seeing as how I am still on the payroll as a consultant. Even get the boring memos via the precinct email loop to prove it. Not that I read them, mind, but clearing them from an inbox does get tiresome. So,” he said, perching on the edge of her desk with practiced aplomb---he did _everything_ with practiced aplomb---Lucifer smirked at his ersatz partner. “Now, where do we start for a new case. It’s Los Angeles, and in a city of four million people, you can’t tell me no one’s been snuffed out since Tuesday three weeks ago. So, I repeat, what do you have for me?”

 

Chloe sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Well, they were making progress if she were going from happy deflection to annoyance. “It’s okay if you want to take off for uncle duties for a while.”

 

Lucifer scoffed and crossed his arms more tightly over his chest. “First of all, Linda has her hands full trying to teach Maze and Amenadiel how human infants work. Something I have no experience with and no interest in learning. It might make you feel better that we never get anyone under eighteen in Hell. Dad’s got his own rules and systems, but he’s got clauses on what’s fair based on baptism so bully for him. Honestly, I’d have had Maze and her legions bar the door to the infernal to children on principle, but it’s about the one thing all Celestials agree on. So, even if the dear doctor has a great supernatural support team, I can’t imagine teaching three is easier than just two.”

 

“Babies aren’t hard once you get the rhythm.”

 

Lucifer sighed. “Linda’s also rich---trust me, I pay her well enough and I’m far from her only client.”

 

The tension in Chloe’s shoulders eased. “Although I am sure you take up the most time.”

 

“I’m the most interesting,” he riposted. “So, there’s a day nurse as well when needed. Point is, Charlie is safe as houses. Safer. The Silver City’s greatest warrior and Hell’s best torturer would unite in a minute to end anyone who so much ruffles a strand on my nephew’s head. Or a feather for that matter.”

 

Blue eyes widened at him. “He didn’t?”

 

Part of Lucifer wanted to raise his chin and be difficult. His patience had been worn thin over the last three weeks, but the rest for once knew which hill he wanted to die on. Derailing their conversation now wouldn’t get him back to active duty. Opting for the merciful approach, Lucifer quirked his lip, harnessing the full power of his smirk. “No, of course not. First Nephilim anyone’s ever even heard of. If the kid gets wings is anyone’s guess. For right now, he’s still very human, take that as you will.”

 

If Chloe had let out a breath then or seemed relieved, Lucifer would have stomped---not flounced, he was not a flouncer no matter what his big brother said---out then. Instead, she gave a brisk nod. “Alright, well, there’s probably something to do at Lux.”  


“I have business managers and plenty of time to play when I want to on the floor. Been around eons, more or less learned the fine are of time management.” He sighed again. “Well, I’ve been better at it at least since Eve and I broke up. Oh, and she’s living at Che Linda too so best not to be there. But you’ve run out of excuses or other things to foist me off on…well I could go home and get an orgy going again. Always best to make the most out of a Wednesday afternoon, get a jump on the weekend.”

 

Chloe drummed her nails on the cheap metal of her desk. “That’s not…I didn’t mean.”

 

He stood and began to pace, an itchiness settling over his skin. “Detective, no matter what the good doctor has drilled into my head this year about lies of omission and Miss Lopez’s long ago jab about compartmentalizing, I’ve never technically lied to you. I’d appreciate the same courtesy. If we’re not…” his voice caught but he forced himself through anyway.

There had been a moment before Charlotte’s death and her seeing his face, before Kinley’s plot and the extent of his monstrosities…just this moment when a _them_ was possible. They were past that. He couldn’t even blame her. Bloody hell, after the last time they’d worked together and after all she’d seen, a view even he hadn’t quite had on his malformed body, he couldn’t even blame her. But they were work partners still and he hoped friends. Friends were open and honest or else what was the sodding point?

 

He started again. “If we’re not ‘okay’ or if you don’t want to work with me any longer after my devil problems, then I’d appreciate being told instead of being avoided. It’s clumsy and beneath you. Besides, I’m not an idiot.”

 

She stood then and set a hand on his shoulder. He barely kept himself from flinching. It mixed with the pity in her eyes told him exactly how much she wanted to blow him off. And that knowledge burned more in that moment than the fires of Hell ever had. “What happened made me scared for you, Lucifer. You need to think.”

 

He pulled away and straightened the lapels of his Armani jacket. “I am thinking. We have the best close rate in the department, and I haven’t had any problems since…since that night,” he lowered his voice on that last part and leaned closer to her. “Do you want to bin all that for irrational fears?”

 

That was pushing the limits of the truth. He had slept better the last few weeks than when he’d feared he was the Angel of San Bernadino but that didn’t mean he’d been sleeping well. Nightmares and his elaborate imagination were haunting him, and there was no guarantee his blasted subconscious wouldn’t be his own undoing any time soon.

 

Chloe didn’t speak for a while, just regarded him with her wide eyes. He’d loved those once, still did, but they’d been filled with some much confusion and fear this year. The piercing looks from her cut into them nowadays as often as they buoyed his spirits. “Are they?”

His jaw clenched. “I’m fine. It’s not a flu or some recurring rash. I haven’t been anything but porcelain white and creamy skin since the masquerade ball.”

 

She arched an eyebrow at him. “And your mojo?”

 

“Perfectly normal as far as I know.” Technically not a lie. Since the night he’d had dozens of patrons at Lux confessing to him en masse, he hadn’t asked any human what they desired. It wasn’t even a matter of what seemed safest, lest he start an accidental cult, but he just…Lucifer hadn’t seen much of anyone outside of his family or the occasional drop in from Amenadiel to angst over fatherly issues, searching for advice from the universe’s least likely source of parental knowledge. “I’m fine.”

 

She took in a deep breath. The detective hadn’t run or flinched; she’d not screamed. Nothing in her reaction matched that horrible day after Kinley’s arrest. But her hesitation was lingering, and that couldn’t be a good thing. “I can’t, Lucifer. I can’t let you back in the field. If you were…” she choked back a word that probably would have been human if she’d dared to say it. “If you were, uh, less you, I’d say the same thing. Any cop after trauma needs counseling. Linda’s on maternity leave. You should just rest and try and get back into the normal Lux swing of things until you can see her in session. I’d should have been here to tell this same thing to Dan after Charlotte died. When it was Sullivan down the hall last Thanksgiving, I reminded him to take off and stick with it after he shot a perp. You need time.”

 

“There wasn’t any trauma.” His voice rose on the end of that sentence, and he wasn’t sure if he were asking or telling, if it had descended into begging Chloe for consideration. Maze, even after the history of their fractured and now repaired, familial relationship, would have laughed at him. The once and (probably) future Lord of Hell begging. But it was Chloe so of course he would. “I had an epiphany, realized I hated myself, and then thanks to you I know I want to forgive myself. Bob’s your uncle and I’m just fine.”

 

She shook her head. “You _weren’t_ fine, and you aren’t fine.” She stepped forward and then more forcefully into his personal space, making sure to set a hand on his shoulder. “I am worried for you.”

 

“Or scared of me.”

 

“ _For_ you, it’s different. Let’s say that we do go back to everything like before. What if we’re chasing down a suspect and you sprout leathery wings?”

 

He looked away. Shame was a powerful thing, and while most of the time he could shove it away, after this past month, such an act wasn’t possible. “You said it didn’t bother you.”

 

“Not me but then you have strangers on the street or CCTV or other officers who see. Then what?”

 

“They’d assume I’m the Devil. Not like I haven’t been coy about it.”

 

She withdrew her hand, and her eyes blazed in a way that would have impressed him. At least for a human. “And you damn well know no one believes it because it’s insane without proof.”

 

“No less true.”

 

“Well, you go out and accidentally spread proof then what happens to you?”

 

“Invulnerable at least when a good distance from you. I can handle myself.” He raised his chin higher just to defy her.

 

“And Charlie?” It’s a low blow, and he assumes the detective had to have known that.

 

“Hell’s best torturer and the strongest archangel protect him.”

 

“You do something, and it gets out there and at best people hunt you, but worse, it ends up on your family’s doorstep.”

 

Unbidden, memories of awkwardly cradling his nephew in his arms at the hospital flashed through Lucifer’s mind. He was so very small, and so far so utterly human. Fragile. Chloe wasn’t wrong. Even if Charlie grew up to be a completely normal child, and that was unlikely no matter the state Amenadiel had been in at the time of his nephew’s conception, no one would give him a pass if they figured out that he was part of the Devil’s family.

 

“I won’t let that happen.”

 

“And that’s not even the worst thing!” Chloe shouted. Several pairs of eyes across the station, including Dan’s flashed to both of them. The detective shook her head, grabbed his arm, and he let her manhandle him to Ella’s currently unoccupied lab space. Bully for lunch breaks. “What if it’s something different?”

 

“I’d never hurt you or anyone for that matter.”

 

“No but say it’s something simple…that seems simple. You go into the interrogation room to question a suspect, do that desire mojo thing, and then you end up deviling out in front of the whole station.”

 

“We are not calling it that because it’s a one-off and also that’s just stupid.”

 

Chloe blinked furiously, and, for a moment, he thought she might tear up. “ _I’m_ here. You reveal yourself to a precinct of armed cops and then you get shot, and that’s on me!”

 

He stilled and let the fight leak out of him. They weren’t at a place where he could hug her, not now, and not after what he’d said to her over the bar at Lux. He wasn’t even wrong about it. She wanted him to be better---and he did too---but she _believed_ he could be. Lucifer didn’t have the same faith and the thought of ever disappointing her was a bitterness in the back of his throat. Still, she needed comfort too. Clearly, his…no, not his and not anymore…the detective hadn’t been sleeping either.

 

Reaching out, Lucifer squeezed her shoulder gently. “You’ve been avoiding me because you’re worried about me?”

 

Chloe groaned. “How can you be so perceptive about everyone but yourself?”

 

He snorted in the most undignified manner. “Call that providence. I just…” _No one worries about me_. “It’s kind of you, but still bloody annoying. I’m not an invalid, and I’m not a loose cannon, well no more than my usual style.” He forced himself to smirk again, to try and be the partner he’d been and not the mess he was after a year from Hell. He slid a finger over the cool metal of Ella’s table, letting the sensation ground him. “But I appreciate the concern, and loathe as I am to admit it, I can agree that for a while---even though it’s overkill---not to chase down subjects.” He shrugged. “For Charlie’s sake.”

 

Why did he have the sinking suspicion this would be far from the last time the detective or the universe for that matter would use his nephew as leverage over him?

 

“Good, see then reason. Go home to Lux and party it up. That should be safe enough.”

 

“But,” he cut in, tone sharper than he’d meant it to be. “I’m not going to be let go as a consultant. Worked too bloody hard to be here.” Dad was he pathetic sometimes. “Let me come here, and do paperwork, sit in on updates and brainstorming over forensic stuff. You know, the boring parts.”

 

“The parts you usually skip?”

 

“Better than being bored,” he admitted. “Besides, in a couple more weeks, you’ll see I’m right as rain and owe me a huge apology. ‘Till then, you know I’m a devil of my word. I will do the most boring parts of precinct work and be on hand for interrogations if you need a bit more. You can make the call when I’m ready for full duty.”

 

She considered him, eyes sharply focused and it didn’t escape his notice how they trailed over his entire body. He’d had so many men and women over the years evaluate him, run their eyes over him. It had always been carnal before, but this was calculating.

 

Sighing, he slipped off his jacket and then undid his cufflinks. As if it would mollify her, he rolled up his sleeves and let her see his forearms. Holding his right hand up, Lucifer spoke again, “See, no burns, nothing red and hardly a claw in sight.”

 

At that moment, he wasn’t sure whom he was more mad at: his Father for how he’d designed all angels (and what kind of arsehole divine plan was that anyway?) or himself since it was his own seemingly insurmountable issues that had made him sprout all of it.

 

Enough to make a guy curse the name of a little half-brother he’d never met.

 

Chloe nodded and stopped herself short of touching his skin. He wasn’t sure if she stopped because they were in a weird place where their relationship was so undefined again and she was being mindful of boundaries or because she was repulsed deep down. He didn’t want to know. She offered him a tight smile. “So, paperwork?”

 

“Yes. I can do it, you know. I usually foisted it off on Maze or on the new GM for Lux, but I’m capable of it.” He grinned, finding a rhythm in his usual bravado. “I’m not just a pretty face.”

 

Chloe’s slight smile fell immediately, and he realized the error of his words. His face. That was the whole crux of the problem, wasn’t it? “I…that’s good. If you can just do the easy stuff.”

 

He just kept himself from correcting her, from spitting out that it was the “safe” choice she was championing. But he wanted this. Maybe it had been too many years in Hell, but he was a masochist now. If he were relegated to nothing more than fetching coffee and filing, he’d do that and not complain. Much. He’d do anything to be near to her and that, at some level, was probably a cosmic joke from Dear Old Dad too. When wasn’t it? If Detective Chloe Decker wanted it, he’d do it. If it wasn’t in his power, he’d _make_ it so. And if the only way to stay close to her---to protect her---was to be her errand boy, then so be it.

 

“Then, I suppose we have an arrangement. Is there anything on the approved list I can start with today?”

 

“I’ve been organizing a few things, but I don’t have an active case. Lucifer,” she forced the smile more, and he needed Maze to teach her poker soon for his sake. He couldn’t bear the brunt of her failed false hopes and brightness. It would have been kinder for her just to be blunt. The other way insulted both of them. “…take a break. Get ready for tomorrow, and I’ll have a stack of everything to go through. Promise.”

 

“And you won’t fire me as a consultant?” he asked, his voice quiet. “Promise me that.”

 

The detective hesitated, and it was enough to let him know he’d overplayed his hand. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Not for my sake and not anymore. For right now, we play it by ear. Deal?”

 

He gave her a slight bow---flourish, always practice that extra flourish---and gave her a simple, “As you wish” before heading home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella finds out.

Something mondo weird was up.

 

Okay, in the precinct, a lot of weirdass things happened. Ella was a scientist, and she noticed things. Sure, she filed them away to piece together later, but she noticed all the same. Maybe it was her faith, even damaged, that kept her open to the other possibilities in life. It was more likely because she’d grown up her whole life with Rae Rae as her ghostly companion, something she’d been more at peace with since her talk with Chloe. But yeah, the station and their cases could be balls to the wall bizarro.

 

There was the dagger that apparently created a stabby-stab party at a yoga studio that she still didn’t understand. The weird dance of back and forth between poor Charlotte Richards and Lucifer. Not that stepmother didn’t explain a lot, but there was still something off in how Amenadiel and Lucifer had treated her like a mom, down to what felt like decades and not a few years of baggage. And the crime scene. Pierce---she’d never wanted to hope in Hell more in her life than when she’d found out he’d tried to kill Chloe and Lucifer---was the weirdest. Not only had the coroner’s report been impossible, reporting injuries and carbon dating that were off the charts and the reason it had been buried in red tape, but the scene.

 

None of it made sense, least of all the very large, very bloody feathers everywhere. She’d saved a few, not sure what to do with them, but positive that they were some big part of the bigger puzzle, and not all deserved to end up in a vacuum or in storage basement of the precinct.

 

So, yeah, L.A. was a weirder city than Detroit for obvious reasons, but the cases that hit Ella’s precinct directly often seemed batshit loco. But this was a different kind of weird, something she couldn’t understand. Yeah, she got that after the Pierce the freaking Sinnerman debacle that Chloe needed a vacation to Rome (she’d have chosen Aruba herself), and that month of team Deckerstar being MIA made sense. But things had been better. Even with the tension while Lucifer was dating Eve and, okay totally keeping it one hundred, _not_ been good at balancing work and all the pleasure, things felt like they’d been before Pierce had fucked it up.

 

But now?

 

In the almost five weeks since the realtor case, things felt _broken_.

 

Chloe went to crime scenes alone. Not only was Lucifer not there, but he didn’t even complain about being left out. Lucifer always complained. It was something she rolled with because he was also funny as hell and more than game to joke around with her, double entendres easily dripping off his lips, and it made the day pass easily. But the dude was a whiner. So far, he’d been going through files, organizing paperwork, and sitting in on her debriefs. But not a damn peep. It made zero sense. As far as she knew, nothing had happened at the masquerade party but a solid win for the whole team. Bad guy caught, no one injured, and all moving on.

 

But Lucifer was clearly riding the bench, and she had no idea why. Or crazier still, why he’d taken the demotion without a fight.

 

He spent more of his time in her lab than he usually did these days. Even after the paperwork part and when he was released by Chloe, he’d quietly make an excuse to slide into Ella’s space, settle himself on a stool and either play with his phone or let her talk to him. She liked that part. The way he seemed to enjoy her rambling. He’d always humored her but something had changed there too. Over a year ago with the last time she’d seen Rae Rae, he’d started just coming by at nights to hang. She’d even been able to coax him into occasional movie nights and sci-fi watching marathons at her place. He’d been surprisingly game for _Dr. Who_ and as she’d totally called it a total Tennant fan. Soured fast on _Supernatural_ , much to her frustrations. You’d think the ultimate devil method actor would want to see how someone else had played him---was still playing him cause did that show ever die---but he hated it once they got to the angels in season four.

  
Whatevs.

 

But now, in the two weeks he’d been back to this half-working schedule, he seemed to live in her lab. At least at nights. She hadn’t talked to him about why he was even avoiding Lux. Okay, so maybe dude was skittish after he’d almost bled to death there and the club had taken some time to get rebuilt. That could track, but he was kind of the _the_ party guy. She knew; she’d heard all of his very detailed, very funny clubbing tales. Lucifer should have been having threesomes and moresomes every night. Especially since he was coming off the Eve break up still. Getting back on that horse.

 

The fact he was here at eleven o’clock when he’d already had a full day of the boring shit, and attentively listening to her ramble about the time she’d learned to read _Hamlet_ in Klingon was sweet. Flattering even. But it wasn’t the way things were supposed to be.

 

“So, yeah, it took about six months, but I read through it. I mean, translation isn’t like my best thing. I’m bilingual but my grammar sense in any language sucks but it was worth it. I mean, reading in Klingon can be fun.”

 

Her tone was cheery, but she was still studying Lucifer closely. He had circles under his eyes---she’d seen him look worse a couple times before, but dude was looking strung out---and his hair was curling just a bit, something he seemed to usually try and product to death. Still, he smiled back at her, beaming the way her brother Ricardo did when talking about the latest car he boosted.

 

“I bet that old Will never would have seen that coming. Not sure he would have been flattered, but he did stress so over his work being forgotten after his death.” He shrugged. “Since I helped him punch that play up, I can say it’s not what I anticipated either, but I’m flattered.”

 

Ella chuckled out loud, but her throat clenched. There they were again. She admired his desire for authenticity, she did, and however this role fit into promoting Lux, then more power to him. But it was a crutch. Some wall that slammed down even here during the quiet hours of the night when it was just the two of them. Bro time or at least she thought of it that way since Lucifer gave more of a shit about her than any of her four actual brothers ever had. Even now, he couldn’t leave the Devil talk behind, couldn’t open up.

 

The words tumbled from her mouth before she could help it. “Is this what happened?”

 

Lucifer chuckled, a warm, melodic sound that she was sure had made so many men and women happy at Lux before. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Well, if I actually could. Catch-22 of immortality that you can’t quite say that and mean it.”

 

She sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. Lucifer’s eyes widened, and she didn’t understand how she hadn’t seen it her first year with the department. Maybe she hadn’t quite noticed it till Las Vegas. But she could now. That so much of what he did was about throwing up walls. The innuendo which, gross, couldn’t affect her cause in her mind he was so her brother (by choice, not birth of course) was how he threw people off his track. Most would just fall for it and get to the bumping uglies. She didn’t think many people outside of her tribe (Linda, Maze, and Chloe) ever saw the vulnerable side of him. Dan did too, but he hadn’t cared about that since Charlotte’s death.

 

Still that silky voice, that bravado. It wasn’t real. Sometimes she wondered what was with him. But right now her sister sense could at least detect pain.

 

“No, I meant seriously.”

 

“I’m always serious. Deadly so.”

 

“Are not.”

 

“Well, I find it bores me.” He winked at her. “I’m by far the wrong brother for that. You want humorless git and you can call Amenadiel.”

 

“Amen’s sweet!” And she meant it. There was a kindness and a faith deep in him that she recognized, the calming presence of a fellow believer. Or whatever she was now; leaving the Big Guy behind was harder than she’d anticipated. “But I just…it’s okay, you know.”

 

He frowned, looking for all the world like a confused puppy. “What is?”

 

“You can be honest.”

 

“Always am, _carina_.”

 

She arched an eyebrow at him. Filed another thing away about Lucifer. She knew he understood Spanish. She’d seen him more than once before an interpreter came in help other officers with questioning. Ella hadn’t heard him use it with her. One word, a small word but the Puerto Rican accent on the words was flawless. Interesting. Americans weren’t always great with Spanish, even Angelenos who grew up with it cause how could you not in California? British people---the few she’d met---downright sucked. Like the two languages, at least the proper UK way, couldn’t co-exist.

 

Just one of those extra Lucifery things about him.

 

“But you aren’t,” she said, sighing. “Look, I’m not harshing your squee. I get it. I mean, I’m not an actress cause, man, this town has enough of those. But I understand it’s fun to pretend. I did cosplay a lot as a kid an in junior college and stuff.” Sometimes now at the odd convention, but Lucifer didn’t need to know that. Yet. Although, he’d probably look amazing decked out in the pleather garb that tended to come with cosplay. Then her mind wandered to whatever types of things were hidden deep in the closet at Lux for fun time. She rolled her eyes. A world of no. “Anyway, sorry, brain wandered. I just…you don’t have to talk about the devil stuff all the time. I won’t let anyone know you dropped the act. You can always dig back into the method in the morning.”

 

And there it was. They’d gone from laughing over Shakespeare, Klingon and anecdotes Lucifer couldn’t possibly have to her trying to figure out what the hell had gone around here. About what was eating him. In the process, the walls slammed down hard. His back was rigidly straight and his eyes were narrowed. Cautious.

 

“I’m not an actor. Have you ever seen me in a bloody play ever?”

 

“Then on brand theming for Lux, whatever dude. But you don’t have to hide 24/7. You can be yourself with me. I…is this why you and Chloe are fighting?”

 

He stood up so fast that the stool clattered to the floor beneath him, a loud crash jarring both of them. “First off, we are not fighting. Not really,” he seemed to hedge. “We came to an agreement, and while I have extra uncle duties, it made sense.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted. “Sure whatever, Lucifer. That’s why you’re here two weeks straight and not always over at Linda’s. Be straight with me.”

 

“I don’t lie.”

 

“By omission,” she corrected. She’d called his big bluffing number back in Vegas almost two years ago. “So, cards on the table.”

 

Despite his anger, he laughed at that. A little but still. “Yes, Miss Lopez?”

 

“Did Chloe finally just ask you to drop the devil schtick sometimes? Like are you doing less because she’s getting tired of the pretend?” She swallowed hard at that. It was the closest she’d ever come to trying to shatter his…what exactly? Was it all for some image for show biz? Was it a persona to hide from a family that was clearly setting the gold standard in fucked up? Linda supported Lucifer wholeheartedly; she’d never even implied in casual nights out she thought he was delusional. But reality couldn’t be negotiated around forever.

 

Could it?

 

Lucifer’s shoulders sagged, and his voice was icy when he spoke. He’d never taken a tone like that before, not with her. “I see I’m overstaying my welcome with the whole precinct now. I’m sorry, Miss Lopez. I shouldn’t interrupt your work.”

 

“Dude, I was cleaning beakers and petri dishes. It wasn’t that big a deal. It’s just…it’s okay to be yourself with me, I promise. I’ll understand and totally won’t tell a soul. _Te lo juro_.”

 

“And one never breaks a deal with the devil,” he said, smiling sadly. “But I can refuse such an offer. As I’ve found both here and with my so-called family, bearing my soul---sullied as it is---”

 

“Don’t do that. You’re a good man, Lucifer.”

 

His eyes seemed to flash. And Ella told herself that it was a trick of the light, that flames couldn’t live deep in his pupils. It was just all the devil talk getting to her too. Hadn’t one of her conferences talked about that shared hallucination stuff. _Folie à deux_ , right?

  
Lucifer turned on his heels with deft precision and stormed for the door. She hurried around the table to chase him down when two things happened at once. First, a loud clash rang out as one of the beakers she’d been cleaning crashed to the floor somehow. If Rae Rae were here---ghost rules or not---Ella would have blamed her friend. Neither she nor Lucifer could have reached it. At least she thought that till she rounded the table and got a full view of Lucifer’s back.

 

And the long, red tail flaring out behind him.

 

She cursed in Spanish, a few choice words her abuela would have washed her mouth out with soap for uttering. It was enough to jar Lucifer from his snit. He rolled his shoulders and turned back to her, an exasperated but lingering smile on his face.

 

“No need to blaspheme. I don’t care, but I assumed you eventually had an interest in being back in Dad’s good graces.”

 

Adrenaline started flooding through her. Not as much because she was scared of Lucifer---she’d just seen him get pissy and try to storm off like a Taylor Swift fangirl; he wasn’t that scary---but because her mind was filtering through everything at warp speed. It was one thing to have faith, even struggling faith. It was something else to see ghosts. Well, one ghost. But the very realization that _all of it_ truly was one hundred percent the real deal, and the Big Guy was watching all off this unfurl right now was about to bowl her under.

 

_Shit, is God mad at me for hanging out with his son? Also, seriously, isn’t the Big Guy about love and acceptance ‘cause He has so much explaining to do about how he’s treated Lucifer._

Lucifer was frowning now, and strong hands were squeezing both her shoulders. “Miss Lopez? I apologize. I’m just tired and… you’re not wrong, it’s been an exhausting month and then some. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He peered closer to her eyes. Idly, she wondered if he was trying to make sure her own hadn’t been blown wide with a stroke. Honestly, she was only ninety percent sure they hadn’t. “Are you okay, _cariña_?”

 

Her brain started slipping into gear enough to focus again. Weird. She could do weird. She’d talked to a ghost since she was eight. This wasn’t that much weirder. Okay, a lie, it was totally weirder, but like it was Lucifer. With a tail. A tail that for some reason had poked through his suit but not torn the actual fabric, and she had no idea how that even worked cause like the Incredible Hulk always ruined his clothes.

 

Minus appropriate, kid-friendly, and strategic sweatpants.

 

“I…uh, Luce? Don’t take this the wrong way, but where did the tail come from?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luci has some 'splaining to do.

Utter disbelief warred with anger in Lucifer’s mind. At first, he thought---at least _wanted_ to think---that he’d heard Miss Lopez wrong. Then again, his wings had gone full on batty in the last couple months and he’d been head to toe devilish at the masquerade. Clearly, his body and whatever torments his self-actualization could dream up were open to new and ever more humiliating possibilities.

 

Groaning, Lucifer looked down to the blasted tail half curled up around his right hip and leg. Damn thing had a flat, triangular end too. Spare no detail in his own self-flagellation, huh? The worst part of all of this is he could only blame dear old Dad so far. Oh, he was blaming him, sure, but the mechanism was in place for any angel. It wasn’t like Amenadiel or (so far) Charlie did this.

 

Nope, this was a Lucifer self-loathing special.

 

He inhaled sharply and let the breath out slowly. Miss Lopez hadn’t started shrieking in terror or gone catatonic. She hadn’t even taken steps back from him and started repeating her words until they made no real sense in context. All in all, she was taking it rather well. He didn’t want to bugger that up by cursing. She was great with the double entendre and the “bro talk” as she or the douche might have called it. But a cursing devil might have been that one extra straw to break the camel’s back of her sanity. He’d seen his other side do more with less proof.

 

Holding up his hands, palms up, he spoke, “I can explain.”

 

She shook her head and stalked to the corner of the lab. He was half expecting her to come back with a scalpel or some other make shift weapon---she was or had been religious after all, solidly on Team Dad---but frowned more when she returned with a lab coat that was far to long to ever have been hers.

 

“Take this.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Lucifer, dude, I can handle a lot right now. Apparently and go me, but if you start being like almost quiet, I’m going to lose it.”  


“I am afraid I don’t understand, Miss Lopez.”

 

She smirked up at him, as playful and cheeky as she’d been at the nudist colony months ago. “Okay, the devil got it. Heaven and Hell real…I’m putting that in a box to examine later cause The Big Guy and I haven’t been on speaking terms lately, and I don’t know what that says about me right now.”

 

“Like I’ve always said, Father’s loss. You’re someone He should strive to keep around.”

 

And truer words were never spoken. There was something about Miss Lopez. She wasn’t a miracle like Chloe, but she was special. Maybe just because she was both so human but also so open at the same time. It had been enough to attract his erstwhile sister to her and make The Angel of Death---who had been no peach last time he’d seen her---soften and care for a child. She’d certainly charmed the devil himself with her first hug. Even Amenadiel asked after her. He wondered how she’d feel about that, that she seemed to call angels to her just by her effervescent personality and outlook.

 

Again, best not to overload her more than the sodding tail already had.

 

“Thanks, but I’m dealing and it’s a lot, Lucifer, like _a lot_.”

 

He swallowed but forced himself not to look at the floor. He was still technically the Lord of Hell for fuck’s sake. “I know and you’re not catatonic so, really, you’re doing great.”

 

Miss Lopez rolled her eyes. “Give me some credit here. Now, take this!”

 

He frowned at the coat she’d shoved into his right hand. “This clashes with the Armani.”

 

“ _Tonto_ , focus here. This is third shift. It’s quiet, but there is no way you’re going to walk out to the garage without passing a few officers. Unless, uh, you can like suck the tail back in?”

 

He groused and tied the lab coat around his waist. It was long enough to almost drag on the floor despite his own height. “There was a time when I wouldn’t have a problem forcing the glamour over the devil side, but it’s been complicated lately. Besides, Dad help me, the tail’s new.”

 

She blinked. “It’s new?”

 

“Are you deaf?” he snapped, instantly regretting it. Her face fell, and she slid a step back from him. Reaching out, he patted her shoulder, grateful she let him and didn’t shirk back in pants-shitting terror. He got that reaction a lot when the other side came out. The true face and all that. “Sorry, I just…I can explain back at my penthouse. Thank you for the coat. Is it yours?”

 

“Rodriguez on second shift leaves his stuff here. Be glad he’s slow to wash his lab coats.”

 

Lucifer blanched at the thought. As if that were close to his biggest problem. “Well, then bully for a lack of cleanliness. Come on, Miss Lopez, I’ll let you ride with me.”

 

“Ella.”

 

“What?” He asked, letting her stride out in front of him and into the main cubicles of their floor of the precinct. “I know your name.”

 

She peered at him over her shoulder and evaluated him, her dark eyes searching his face. “Luce, not to put a fine point on it, but when I see your _tail,_ ” she hissed that last word lowly. “I think we can be on the first name basis, British politeness crap aside.” She blinked. “Oh wait, you’re not even English are you!”

 

“Caught.”

**

 

In the end, Miss…Ella had driven his precious Corvette to Lux. Trying to sit where he needed and shift manually when his damn tail had kept popping out and trying to wrap around things---and he was not processing that yet, himself---had proven too much. She’d done a decent job. After all, Ella knew her way around cars from boosting them. And, to be fair, it wasn’t like he drove the speed limit ever. Still almost gave him an (impossible) heart attack when as she peeled away from stop lights with abandon. If he believed in such things for himself, Lucifer would have assumed it was only a miracle that preserved his baby on the way back home.

 

The club was closed. Honestly, since the masquerade, he’d kept it to Thursday through Saturday nights only. It was going to mean the last two months were as far in the red as Lux had ever been and his manager, Ronnie, hired after Maze went pro with bounties, was bugging him to keep the old hours. Reminders of how the club was already suffering after the siege buzzed in Lucifer’s ears constantly.

 

But he couldn’t.

 

Hedonism had worn thin. First with too many orgies (and who knew that could be a problem) with Eve, and now the nagging and second, damn it, justified fear that he couldn’t even avoid an unfortunate incident. He was _not_ calling it a “flare up.” This wasn’t herpes no matter how the detective had less than artfully tried to describe it.

 

He had the money, more than he could ever spend. If Lux needed to limp along a while as he got his head on straight and rid of the fucking tail, then so be it. At least it made sneaking up to his penthouse simple.

 

If Ella were surprised by the lack of a crowd or even an open club on a Wednesday night, she didn’t comment on it. Perhaps she was more focused on the fact her friend---they were still friends, weren’t they---was the actual, biblical Devil and that he currently had one more appendage than normal.

 

As soon as his elevator let them off, Lucifer undid the lab coat. He might have a tail, but he wasn’t going to completely lose his sense of fashion. Dad forbid he’d cede that much to his screwy body. He strode to the bar and pulled out one of his favorite bottles of Scotch. He didn’t even bother with a tumbler this time. Just drank a long draught straight from the container. The detective wasn’t here, and, as such, he was going to have to drink an unfathomable amount to numb himself. Something he was most invested in doing.

 

“Where are my manners?” He said, after half his Scotch was emptied. “Ella, do you want anything?”

 

“You keep any gin there? I could use it, just straight.”

 

Lucifer smirked despite himself. “I try to avoid anything merely straight, my dear.”

 

Ella giggled and he noted that it didn’t sound hysterical. That was some progress, at least he hoped. “That’s the spirit. Just the gin, and then I’m going to need a hell of an explanation.” He looked over his shoulder as he poured her drink just in time to see her balk a bit at her choice of words. “Or, you know, just telling me about Hell, I guess?”

 

He nodded and handed her the gin. Then, Lucifer sat. He yelped the first time, not used to his weight on his tail. Stupid thing. Then he readjusted on the sofa so he could best face Ella and give his tail, which seemed to have a bit of a mind of its own, the space it needed to spread out and lay flat behind him.

 

“That’s bloody inconvenient.”

 

Ella chugged her gin in record time. “So you’ve never had one before?”

 

“Why would I?”

 

“Well, uh on _South Park_ …”

 

“You’re basing what I should look like on an animated cartoon where the Canadians have flapping heads?”

 

“You watch _South Park_.”

 

He shrugged. “I like to get high if I can smoke enough and cartoons are the best to watch. I’ve seen all of _Rick and Morty_ , not much of a feat. I can tell you that I couldn’t have invented a better torture myself than a show that only comes out every two to three years. As well as _Venture Brothers_. But no, I do not…I didn’t look like that.”

 

Ella frowned. “We’re getting to the Hell and torture stuff later, but I need to focus on one thing at a time. It’s how I solve a crime scene.”

 

“I’m hardly a puzzle to be solved.”

 

“From my perspective, Luce, maybe a little.” She sighed and patted his knee briefly. It was sisterly as always but still served to reassure him. She’d helped him skulk away from the police station, she’d driven him home, and now she was trying to hear his side out. It was going at least better than Linda or Chloe at first. Perhaps he hadn’t lost her Ella yet. “Seriously, I believed---or at least mostly till after Charlotte---”

 

“She’s in Heaven,” he said. “I have it on the best authority. Amenadiel, himself, flew her up to the Silver City, and Eve spoke with her there. She’s safe and happy.”

 

Ella blinked. “Oh, like _that_ Eve. Oh my God. I made out with the first woman. She’s like my great like _all the greats_ grandma. Is that weird? _Rayos,_ this is weird.”

 

Lucifer had to chuckle at that. Unbidden, he slunk back to the bar and picked up the bottle of gin. He returned to the couch and handed it to her. “You need alcohol a sight more than I do tonight.”

 

“Understatement.”

 

“Then drink away.”

 

She did as was told, and he was impressed with her ability to down the liquor. Ella Lopez still remained a woman of many secrets and talents to him. Tolerance was chief among them. “Okay, so let me figure this through. You’re the Devil like _the_ one.”

 

“Yes. One and only. And no, there are no other princes of Hell and yes, a lot of Milton gets it wrong.”

 

“I’ve mostly just read the Bible, and, uh, you’re not in it as much as people think.”

 

“I have my moments.”

 

She frowned. “So, the desert temptation?”

 

He shrugged. “That was me, but I saw it as my duty to try and warn my, for lack of a better phrase, half-brother that he didn’t always have to do what Dad wanted. I assure you, Ella, I have never wanted to see anyone suffer.” He frowned. “Well, I don’t wish to see the innocent suffer. I had no qualms about taking over the torture of monsters like Hitler or Stalin personally.”

 

Ella blinked. “Wow. I…I’m not sure how to handle that.”

 

“Well, I didn’t want to be a torturer. That’s the role I was assigned, believe me. But, in my defense, it was _Hitler_.”

 

“No, duh, I’m pro-that. I just…” she frowned. “I’m having a hard time seeing your torture anyone.” She blushed a little, a pink glow teasing over her cheeks. “I mean aside from like the very _Fifty Shades_ kind.”

 

“I suppose we’re different on vacation than we usually are on our day jobs.”

 

“Vacation?”

 

“Yes, Maze and I left Hell around eight years ago. I was on vacation from my work. Hell’s a bureaucracy like anything else. Very organized, can run itself for a while. I usually only get a few days or maybe a week on holiday before Amenadiel---God’s right hand and best warrior, or he was---comes to take me back. I found a loophole with him and a deal, exploited it. Then, I don’t know, I helped solved Delilah’s murder, and things just clicked from there. I assure you, I wouldn’t have predicted my preferred vocation being an LAPD consultant either.”

 

“You’re not the best at by-the-rules consulting,” Ella admitted, gulping again.

 

“But that’s the boring part.”

 

“Till now.” She frowned. “Okay so Eve’s _that_ Eve, Maze is a demon, and Amenadiel is an angel. Check gotcha. You’re Old Scratch.”

 

“Always liked that moniker.”

 

“And you didn’t used to have a tail but now you do, and you can’t just make it go away?”

 

“I think you’ve actually caught up quite admirably, _cariña_.”

 

That faint coloring of her cheeks was his reward for the endearment. “Thanks but why can’t you, you know, uh…”

 

“Not have a tail?” he asked wryly. Honestly, Lucifer was impressed with his own ability to keep his voice level. After all, he wasn’t exactly copasetic with that either.

 

“Yeah. Ooh are there horns?”

 

“Don’t give my body any ideas, and before you ask nothing goat-like. I _loathe_ goats. Maze told me once that Amenadiel started that goats and the devil rumor. It is assuredly not true.”

 

“Really cause that’s pretty spread all over.”

 

“I hate goats.”

 

She giggled a little and rolled her eyes. For the first time since the lab, Lucifer could breathe again. He knew now if she could tease him about his predicament that she’d be okay, that they’d still be friends after this.

 

“It’s complicated.”

 

“I’m gathering most things with you are.”

 

“Fair point, but angels---and I guess I’m technically still one---self-actualize. Whatever guilt or feelings deep down we’re carrying affect our appearances. I’ll spare you the sordid details but Amenadiel felt right guilty,” _and he should have_ , “about something he did to me, and he lost his wings for a while. Only got them back in time to take Charlotte to heaven. He’s better now, fully angelic as far as I know.”

 

“And you?”

 

Lucifer paused long enough to finish the bottle of Scotch in his hand. He was going to need it. When he was done guzzling, he set the bottle down and gestured to his face. “This was how I looked before the Fall.”

 

“Right, uh, _that_ one.”

 

“Yup, the big one. Milton gets that much right. I was banished to Hell, and I appeared quite different. I thought I knew which was which before, that this look,” he forced his voice not to break. “Was who I _was_. That it was a glamour I’d use to pass among humans whilst on holiday.”

 

“But underneath?”

 

“True form, a face like anything you could imagine the devil would be…except the horns. Don’t bloody have those yet.”

 

“You keep saying ‘yet!’”

 

“Well, after Amenadiel’s theory came to light.”

 

She frowned, her brows furrowing fiercely. “The self-actualization thing.”  


“Exactly.” And fuck if his tail didn’t twitch and curl the more agitated he got. Like that made confessing all this any sodding easier. “I don’t know anymore. I think my devil face for eons was something I had subconsciously done to myself. Because of how I felt about myself.”

 

Enthusiastic arms were around his waist, and Ella was hugging him tightly. “Oh, Lucifer, bring it in, buddy. You need a hug.”

 

He wanted to keep up his front of calm insouciance, to try and maintain the ruse that none of this bothered him. But with his friend’s arms around him, it was hard to maintain equilibrium. He took in a few, ragged breaths before daring to speak.

 

“Why thank you Mi…Ella. I appreciate it.”

 

She didn’t break the grip. “I’m gonna have about a billion questions over all the Heaven and Hell stuff, things from the Bible I totally want to compare notes on.”

 

“I figured that would come.”

 

“But now, are you okay?”

 

“You just found out your friend and the consultant you work with is the Prince of Lies, and you’re asking me if I’m alright?”

 

Ella pulled back and sniffled. “Well, while you compartmentalize too much, you don’t actually lie so that’s even a dumb nickname. But I’m more worried about the self-actualizing mojo. You mean you can’t undo the you know.” She said, gesturing to his curling tail as if not saying the word out loud made things better.

 

“I can’t control my subconscious anymore than a human could. In fact, when I get in a spiral like this, it tends to get much, much worse.”

 

“The psoriasis wasn’t psoriasis.”

 

“Afraid not. It got quite bad until the detective helped me, but we’re at an impasse currently, and it’s clear the Devil stuff scares and triggers her. I don’t want to burden her with it. Frankly, if she knew that I was so blatantly obvious about my true nature at the station---willingly or not---she’d have me off duty completely, not even filling out bloody paperwork.”

 

“Chloe knows.” Ella bit her lower lip, puzzling things out. “Linda must too if she and Amenadiel have Charlie.”

 

“They both do.”

 

“Rome instead of like Hawaii on the department mandatory break.”

 

He nodded again. “You’re very quick Ella. Glad it wasn’t the douche that stumbled on me instead.”

 

Something dark and strained flitted through Ella’s expression, something he couldn’t quite place. “No, that would have been bad.”

 

“Agreed. So, for right now, I have an idea to deal with the immediate tail situation. Trying to keep my own self-loathing and tricky subconscious from fucking me up is a bit harder.”

 

Ella’s eyes took on a bright sheen, and if he didn’t know better, he would have thought she was tearing up, but no one spared tears for the devil. Thinking of Chloe both after Kinley’s arrest and the night of the masquerade ball, they tended to cry _because_ of him.

 

“We’ll talk about the self-image stuff later too because, seriously, that’s fucked up.”

 

“Believe me, I’m aware.”

 

She sighed and gestured to the offending appendage. “So, what do we do about the tail now if you can’t just like will it away?”

 

“It’s not like a fairy tale. It’s not _Aladdin_ , I don’t say some magic words, ‘open sesame’ and off it pops.”

 

“Not like I’d know the rules yet either, dude! But what do you need?” She patted his knee once more and looked up at him with eyes brimming with sincerity and trust.

 

Dad how? She still trusted him, and he had no idea how he’d even earned that. Perhaps it was an indirect gift of his sister, Azrael. Ella had been used to the weird and bizarre, coached in it since she was a child and had survived a car wreck that Lucifer was rapidly beginning to suspect she shouldn’t have. His sister was a terrible liar, and he figured she’d found way to pull some strings, to hide from their Father somehow that Ella’s number had been up more than two decades prior. Never mind that. Whatever the reason, Ella wasn’t scared of him, was here to help him, and until he could get control of his problem and prove to Chloe he was worthy of full active duty, he needed every ally he could get.

 

Especially as Amenadiel, Maze, and Linda were busy enough with Charlie.

 

“Do you have access to an M.E.’s lab sometimes?”  


“Not officially but I dated a guy out in Tacoma who…wait why?”

 

“My dear Ella, I’m going to need a bit of a favor.”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

 

“I need you to cut my bloody tail off.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ella goes on the hunt for a bone saw...

Ella needed to correct her earlier thoughts. She’d assumed that Chloe and Lucifer barely being anything but professionally polite with each other was batshit loco. She’d been wrong. Her friend---and, again, the actual Devil---wanted her to help him cut off his tail. That was so many layers of crazy that she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she hadn’t snapped after years of solving bizarre crimes and had a padded cell of her own she was currently in.

 

Yup, totally insane.

 

But it was _Lucifer_ , and he was naturally convincing. She knew why now, and it explained a lot. Granted, the guy was hot if you were into that sort of thing. Personally, she’d never been into the lanky and tall but that was whatever. Still, no one was as charming as Lucifer. He could get almost anyone at the precinct to do anything for him. Pierce, that fucking monster, and Chloe had seemed immune, but Lucifer was silver tongued. Or was it fork-tongued? Shit, what else was different?

 

Even if he didn’t quite mystically (it was mystically right?) sway her, he’d been so pathetic on the couch, regarded her with such wide, hesitant eyes that Ella had agreed. That was how she found herself currently flirting with Chad, the M.E. assistant, after driving one of Lucifer’s cars (she’d taken the vintage Aston Martin' dude owed her for this request) to Temecula.

 

“Ella, this is such a pleasant surprise!”

 

She nodded and leaned closer to him across the exam table. Trailing one finger up and down Chad’s shoulder, she giggled. “Well, there’s another furry convention coming up near Laguna Beach, and I have way too many total normies in the precinct. I was thinking of going again, brushing off my old character, and figured you’d be someone to ask to go with.”

 

Chad beamed and inched closer to her. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

 

She kept the smile on her face and regretted starting this flirtation at all when she’d first moved to L.A. He’d been someone she’d met at a professional continued education seminar, but he’d turned out to be the total nice guy type. Someone who thought they were more than friends after going to SDCC together a couple years back. However, when she needed an extra eye on a case, he was good at giving her perspective. And, yeah, more than once letting her borrow their cool tools for things that had come up.

 

There was not shortage of random needs as a forensic tech at her precinct, and now that she knew about Lucifer, she had to wonder if that was partially because of him. Not because he’d wanted it but because clearly the Devil---again, actual and literal---attracted weird shit to him.

 

“Chad, I would totally love to go with you to the next Furry meetup. Sure,” she said, forcing herself to lie. She’d used subterfuge for bigger things. “First though, I totally need a favor. I know this is going to sound weird, but we’ve had one of those ‘what the Hell’ cases at my station again.”

 

He gave a low, appreciative whistle. “Do you have another random feathers thing with shattered pillars at an art gallery? Or maybe it’s that stabbing conga line?”

 

“Oh, it’s crazier, trust me.”

 

“What is it this time?”

 

“Still an active investigation in my county. I can’t divulge yet,” she hedged.

 

He pouted a bit a that, making his cheeks resemble that of a blow fish. “Oh. So, what do you need?”

 

“Any spare scalpels you have, and, okay, I can totally get it back to you in twelve hours, but I am definitely going to need a bone saw.”

 

Chad shook his head and pulled back from her. “Ella, chica, we only have two of those for the whole department. If I let you have that…no way they’re not gonna notice.”

 

She forced back the temptation to curse under her breath. After all, Ella’d been hanging out with and still felt her loyalties lying with Lucifer. Best not to piss the Big Guy off anymore than she probably was already doing. Donning her brightest smile, she grinned back at him. “But you know how fun the Furry Con would be. You know and like not in that way cause I’m not into the few nighttime people who like break off for whatever, but I’ve missed Terrence Turtle. Come on!’

 

“Well, you do make a foxy lady.”

 

“Literally one heck of a _zorra_ ,” she corrected. “You know me. If I say I’ll have it back by mid-afternoon tomorrow, you know I will.”

 

He pursed his lips tighter before speaking. “I could tell Dr. Menken that I had to do some maintenance on it because the motor was making a funky noise. I’ve done the tune-ups before. But I do this?”  


“Yeah?”

  
“And you owe me the biggest and best slow dance at the Fur Ball.”

 

Ella tamped down the hint of nausea as she thought of having to dance with a Mr. Nice Guy like Chad. Lucifer owed her. Big time. “Sure, that sounds amazeballs.”

**

 

No sooner had she set the bone saw in the back of the Aston along with a supply bag containing various scalpels, gauze and other accoutrements, and settled into the front seat than a familiar voice rang out beside her.

 

“Ella, what are you doing?”

 

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

 

 _Just count to three, don’t get mad_.

 

Staring the ignition, she pulled out of the garage and merged onto the street without glancing over at Rae Rae. Maybe her friend would take the hint. Now was so not the time for her friendly ghost to pop in for a visit.

 

“Hey!” Rae Rae chirped beside her. “You don’t have to ignore a girl. I show up and make that effort.”

 

“After over a year,” Ella countered then changed her tune. “Not that it’s good for us to see each other.” She glanced to her right and noted that, like always, Rae Rae hadn’t changed. Ghosts probably didn’t. Same Coke bottle glasses, bowl haircut, and t-shirt and pants. She wondered if it were weird to be so static of twenty plus years; not that Rae Rae got a choice in that. “I mean, Chloe took the whole ‘I see dead people’ thing well, but we agreed it was good to stay separate.”

 

Rae Rae nodded. “First, go Chloe! I knew your friends would get it.”

 

“Friend. Singular. I don’t exactly go advertising I’m a medium, or, well, that I see the _one_ ghost.” She decided not to complain further. Best not to give the Big Guy ideas. Seeing one ghost and knowing Satan was probably all she needed in her life. Oh, well and she had drinks a couple times a month with a demon and sometimes bumped into Amenadiel socially.

 

Wow, half her friends weren’t human. Ella wasn’t necessarily against that, but she wasn’t sure what it said about her either.

 

“What’s second?”

 

“I thought we agreed dropping in on each other,” _Read you dropping in on me_. “wasn’t good for either of us.”

 

Rae Rae shrugged. “I gave you like over a year. Also, whose car? Are you stealing again? I didn’t think you’d go all _Fast and Furious_ on cars anymore.” She craned her neck to take in the full scope of the cherry red Aston. “Oh and what the heck is in the back seat! That looks gnarly.”

 

“Bone saw and other stuff,” Ella admitted. Rae Rae would only poof away when she wanted to. Until then, at least Ella had company while she was weaving through traffic back to downtown.

 

“Jeez, what do you need a bone saw for?”

 

Ella sighed. _What would it hurt? Not like Rae Rae talks to anyone but me, all those “ghost rules.”_ She glanced at her friend who was regarding her thoughtfully for once. “If you have to know, I’m kind of freaking out here. One of my best friends is the Devil. Like, you know, the real one? Like Beelzebub? Like the Prince of Darkness? _That_ Devil.”

 

Rae Rae frowned. “That’s so not real.”

 

“How do you know? Also, you’re a ghost so that’s pretty judgey.”

 

Rae Rae crossed her arms over her chest, and the petulant expression reminded Ella of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I get I’m stuck and have unresolved business, but it’s not like I’ve ever, uh, been to Hell.”  


“Then I guess you’re lucky. Lucifer doesn’t seem to imply so far it’s a great place, especially if he is taking a vacation from it.”

 

Rae Rae blinked. “That guy at the crime scene I saw that one time stealing a prescription pad from the dead psychiatrist.”

 

“Huh, that explains where that went.” Ella shook her head as she took another exit. “Anyway, yeah. I’m totally freaking out here. It’s all real, I’ve been on the outs with the Big Guy so that can’t be good for me and my life after death without needing serious fire insurance, and, oh yeah, Lucifer is having…I don’t even know what!”

 

“That’s not very descriptive.”

 

“He like…I dunno, has a tail?”

 

Rae Rae’s eyes were huge, and she yipped. “That’s not even possible.”

 

“You just said that Hell wasn’t a thing. I don’t know if as an earthbound spirit you have the full 411 on this stuff.”

 

Rae Rae rolled her eyes. “But okay I’ve seen you a couple times at crime scenes, and dude looks normal, right?”

 

“Well, he’s having issues, and now I have to take the bone saw I just borrowed and cut off his tail. I don’t even know how to do that! I do samples of dead people and look for fibers and DNA. I’m not a surgeon here.” _Or a vet._ She clamped that thought down. It was slightly mean, wasn’t it?

 

Rae Rae shook her head. “Sounds like you have a lot going on.”

 

“Exactly, so I don’t have time for a visit.”

 

“Dude, no. You totally need me. You like are begging for an outside perspective to keep you sane, right?”

 

“So my ghost guardian angel or whatever is going to help me get through tonight where I do impromptu surgery on my best friend’s tail. How does that help?”

 

Rae Rae, even if she looked somehow green around the gills and how could a ghost do that, grinned. “He’s your best friend?”

 

“Well, I mean, I don’t want you to feel like I replaced you. It’s just…complicated,” Ella floundered.

 

Her ghost buddy shook her head. “No, that sounds good. Everyone needs a best friend they can see on a daily basis. It’s totally what I wanted. Uh, I guess not normal. But at least corporeal, right?”

 

“I thought you were the one who said, ‘boo normal.’”

 

Rae Rae nodded as sharply as one of the bobble heads that littered Dan’s desk. “Totally, but I’m not leaving you either tonight. This sounds like some epically bad ideas all rolled together. Besides, I have to tell you.”

 

“What?”

 

“You really shouldn’t do this.”

 

“No shit! I’m not even qualified. What if he…I dunno…can _he_ get an infection?” Ella sighed. “Like you know. I don’t know. No one knows. This is beyond nuts.”

 

Rae Rae sighed and reached out to her. Then, her friend seemed to think better of it---to remember she wasn’t able to touch anything---and dropped her hand back to her lap. “I don’t know what’s going on with your friend, but I don’t think amputation is the answer. I’ll be here cause you could use the moral support, but I really don’t think you should cut into anything, Ella. It’s a bad idea.”

 

“You’re telling me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am always still shocked by the lack of devil body fics out there, especially after 4.09 "Save Lucifer" and hope to see more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rae Rae and Lucifer fight quite a bit and Ella's mind is blown all over again.

**Chapter Five**

“You should probably grab more alcohol,” Rae Rae nodded to the shelves and shelves of the best liquor in the bar. And it made complete sense her brother would be running one. It wasn’t like Remy or Michael would have pointed out because of the sin inherent in a hookup scene, but because bars meant people, and Lu had always been sociable. Even before the Fall, it was the ostracism that had done him in so much, hardened him in ways she hadn’t recognized. “Seriously, if you’re going to be doing all that, and he’s already had a chance to tear through his own supply, you’re going to need more.”

 

_And some weird ass miracle cause that saw isn’t going to cut and Lu knows that._

 

Ella nodded and set the saw and her bag of medical supplies on the bar top. “Thanks that’s actually a really good suggestion. Besides, I see some Patron, and I could use all the liquid courage.” Her human friend frowned back at her. “You have to disappear. I…he can’t see you, but it’s not fair for you to watch this. _Rayos_ , even I don’t want to watch this!”

 

Rae Rae nodded and forced herself to be invisible to any mortal, even Ella. While her girl was busy sorting through the liquor, she slunk to the elevator and pressed the top floor. The clink of glass bottles would hide the elevator motor’s sound, or so Rae Rae hoped. When she reached the penthouse, she swallowed hard and strode in there with a confidence she didn’t feel. If Lu were shocked when he turned to see her and not Ella entering the room, he didn’t show it. But that was him too, the few bits and pieces she’d been able to notice of him over the years, when she’d checked in on him from the corner of Lux and in unassuming ways he wouldn’t notice. If anyone knew how to put a mask on, it was her big brother.

 

It pained her that he had to, that he was so practiced at it. It burned her worse that she was part of the reason. Then again, she hadn’t been the one to start a freaking rebellion either.

 

“What are you doing here?” He stood and rounded on her with all the grace he possessed, which seemed to be all adroit motion she lacked. The effect was marred by the actual freaking tail uncurling around a Scotch bottle, leaving it shattering to a floor. Lu shuddered at the sound of breaking glass and then cursed. “Fuck, I needed that.”

 

She trotted to the bar and grabbed the first dish towel she could find. When he scowled at her, Rae Rae tossed it to him. “First, is that any way to greet your sister?”

 

“Haven’t felt like that in a bloody long time.”

 

She was tempted to switch into Enochian---the language of the angels---just to force him to abandon the “I’m really British act.” It was something he’d clearly done to impress humans, and it seemed to work. However, it only made her want to roll her eyes. On the other hand, Lu had like zilch in the way of patience with her. She needed him to see reason and Ella would be up the elevator soon once she figured out how to carry all of her loot.

 

“I tried…not enough but, like I said, things got weird.”

 

Lucifer sighed and scrubbed at the liquor on the floor. “Millennia and then I tried to…I was in the process of apologizing last year and you just rushed out on me. I’ve missed you.”

 

Her heart blossomed at that. She’d missed him too. Sending him Ella by proxy didn’t do anything to alleviate her own loneliness. If anything, it had made it worse since she usually stayed away from Ella when they’d used to be close. It was comforting to know that her two favorite people had each other, but it didn’t help on her long, isolating days as she ferried the dead from one realm to the next. She hadn’t been wrong. Dead humans were _boring_.

 

Rae Rae grabbed a small trash can from behind the bar and hurried over to her brother. Setting it down, she reached over and picked up the pieces of glass. She’d startled him. Least she could do was help get the apartment clean. She tried not to eye the tail too much, but in all her long life, she’d rarely seen anything so weird. He hadn’t had it even after his face had changed on his ejection from heaven. That much she knew. The Silver City was a place of idle gossip despite their angelic nature. Everyone there knew Lucifer was, as Remy put it, a slut. And many other facts she’d rather forget when she visited as her (ridiculously busy and really Dad could she get more vacay) schedule allowed. No one had mentioned a, well, a damn tail.

 

She was sure Uriel would have gloated over that. Amenadiel too, once upon a time.

 

“Look, Ella is going to come upstairs soon.”

 

“So, are you spying on her or me?” her brother asked, his tone ice cold.

 

“I was slammed tonight, you know. I had fallout from an earthquake in Fresno and, at the same time, an elevator collapse in St. Louis. But after I finished being in two places at one time---thank you very much.”

 

“We all have our gifts.”

 

“Not as good as the ‘desire’ schtick, I’ll give you that. Anyhoo, I hear Ella praying. She hadn’t like prayed to Dad in almost seven months.”

 

Lu frowned at that even as he stood up and wiped off the (nonexistent) dust on his slacks. “I knew she’d been having a crisis of faith. I had assumed she’d reconciled with the church by now. I don’t like Dad.”

 

She couldn’t help herself. Rae Rae snorted even as she continued picking up the shards of the Jim Bean bottle. “Understatement.”

 

“Touche.”

 

“Anyway, she hadn’t prayed in months, and I figured as pissed off as she’s been it had to be a big ass deal for her to talk to Dad now. Imagine my surprise to find she was sweet talking her way into borrowing a bone saw for you.” She got to her feet with about a third of the coordination her brother had. Some angels got all the luck. Okay, well, tail issues aside, _most_ of the luck. “One that we both know won’t even freaking work.”

 

Lu shrugged and rubbed at his temples. “I needed a breather. I couldn’t…I’ve been explaining things all night, and Ella’s held up amazingly well. She’s done better than any human I’ve ever met with the ‘hey it’s all real and here’s the Devil,’ but I assumed she needed a minute to collect her thoughts too.”

 

“Hence goose chase?”

 

“Well, she was allowed to take any car she wanted.”

 

Rae Rae whistled. “Oh, she was telling the truth about that Aston Martin.”

 

“You even know what one is?”

 

“Like I haven’t taken one break to maybe kinda just a little see a _Bond_ movie. Please, I have a little bit of fun. It’s the only way I can get back to dealing with dead humans all day.”

 

Her brother chuckled at that. “See, then it’s less of a hardship when she’s borrowing the best I’ve got.”

 

“Yeah and---”

 

The elevator doors opened, and Ella struggled out. She had the duffle with the scalpel and supplies loaded on her back like school bag---a big one---and had the bone saw in one arm. The two handles of Tequila and Scotch, respectively, she was struggling to keep from falling from the other. Rae Rae backed away from her brother and held her hands up, palms out. It was best not to drop every single thing possible on Ella tonight. Humans had a way of cracking under the pressure of divinity.

 

“Little help here, dude?”

 

Lucifer walked briskly over to her and took saw. Ella made it to the bar in time to deposit the two extra bottles of liquor and then set the medical supplies on the ground. “I apologize. I should have come down earlier. I was distracted.” Rae Rae had to give her brother credit for not cutting his eyes to her; she wasn’t sure she could have done the reverse in his position. “You’re doing so much for me, and I’m not carrying the weight.”

 

Ella poured herself a shot of tequila and shook her head, her ponytail bobbing as she did it. She walked over to the couch and settled down but not before shooting a death glare at Rae Rae. The Angel of Death tried not to be offended. It wasn’t like Ella knew Lucifer could see her too or that he was the last person on earth to think Ella was crazy for talking to her.

 

“About that. Look, Lucifer, I don’t think I can do this.”

 

He gestured to the freaking tail---and Rae Rae was not getting over that any time soon---and his eyes widened. “I don’t know if I can cut it off myself. I tried the last two hours to force it to go in, and it won’t. I can’t leave the penthouse with it like this, and if I’m absent from the precinct for too long, the detective will suss out what’s happened. I don’t want to be made redundant.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Rae Rae rolled her eyes as she sat near Ella on the couch. Wow, was this Italian? It was certainly fancy. Frankly, everything Lu had was. But it was super comfy, like sitting on a cloud, and she would know. “You’re not even British,” Rae Rae hissed.

 

Her brother didn’t respond to that. Apparently, he felt that explaining to Ella that her childhood besties wasn’t a ghost but the Angel of Death wouldn’t be good for her mental health either. Instead, he addressed Ella and ignored her.

 

It chafed but for Ella’s health, Rae Rae would go with it.

 

“I meant,” Lucifer corrected, focusing directly on Ella. “That if I don’t show up, the detective who knows about my little problem will piece everything together and won’t allow me to consult anymore.”

 

Ella’s brown eyes grew large. “Chloe would never do that! She’s very understanding.”

 

“That she may be,” Lucifer replied as he walked over to the piano. Reaching down, he carefully picked up a wickedly curved blade. Rae Rae had never seen that exact one before, but she’d been around long enough and survived enough battles to know demon steel when she saw it. “But I can hardly be discreet with this foul appendage hanging off of me---by far not my favorite.”

 

“Ugh, gross, Lu,” Rae Rae muttered to herself.

 

Ella stifled a laugh and shot Rae Rae another glare. “But I can’t. I don’t know how to do this and what’s with the blade!”

 

Her brother sighed and presented it to Ella. “I may have misled you about the supplies from the coroner’s office.”

 

“‘May have?’” Ella practically yipped.

 

“It was with the best of intentions.”

 

“Oh, like you totally don’t sound like Dad with manipulating people and doing what’s ‘best for them,’” Rae Rae grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

Lu seemed to forget himself for a minute. Instead of focusing on Ella, he shot her a withering glance, his eyes flaring red. “I am _nothing_ like Dad, Azrael. And I never will be.”

 

Ella jumped up and yipped, sounding like one of those yappy dogs and then looked between her and her big brother. A litany of Spanish that Rae Rae couldn’t follow escaped her friend’s lips. Lu, who spoke everything cause again some angels had most of the luck, had the decency to actually blush and look down at the floor. Well, things hitting the fan aside, Rae Rae had been right to send Ella to Lucifer. She didn’t know anyone---even herself---who had that effect on him.

 

“I can explain,” Lu said, and at least his eyes were normal and brown again.

 

Rae Rae hopped to her feet too and inched over to her brother, her hands held up in a calming gesture. If this were ye olden biblical days, she’d have gone with the line “Be not afraid,” but they were all a little past that. “Ella, it’s okay.”

 

Ella looked between both of them and swore, this time in English. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re related?”

 

Lucifer shrugged. “Yes, we are. Azrael is my younger sister.” He cut his eyes to her. She got the gist. They weren’t going to specify which angel she was tonight. Fair enough. That tended to freak people out. No one was happy to see the Angel of Death, and that made sense. Hurt but it made sense. “I didn’t know she knew you until last year, and I had no idea she’d carried on some ridiculous ghost ruse with you for so long.”

 

Ella started to pace but kept a steely gaze locked on both of them. “Was this some weird prank? Like I get an angel friend and then everyone thinks I see ghosts so I’m in therapy for like years and my brothers still make fun of me and it’s oh that’s fine cause she’s really an angel. Like anyone would believe that either.” She took in a deep breath and how she’d gotten through all of that diatribe before was impressive. Rae Rae was certain humans had to breathe. Angels too, in point of fact. She rounded on Rae Rae and shook her head. “You’re the one who told me to move to and stay in L.A. Twice! Is this…were you like moving me into place to hang out with Lucifer.”

 

Lu set the blades back down on the piano and then set a hand on Ella’s shoulder. She stiffened a little before relaxing at his touch. “Azrael---Rae Rae---and I haven’t spoken in a long time, not since she popped up just once last year.”

 

“How long?”

 

Rae Rae shrugged. “Since the Fall long. Like you know, that one?”

 

Ella whistled. “Yeah, I took catechism. I…what is any of this? I want to help you, Luce, and I’m glad I’m not a medium or whatever…but I’m feeling like I’ve been angel ambushed a lot lately.”

 

“I’m not an angel anymore,” her brother snapped, then softened his tone. “Ella…Miss Lopez---”

 

“Ella’s still fine. I just…this is a lot. I need a minute or a drink or all of them. I’ve just found out I’ve been best friends with the Angel of Death—”

 

“Oops,” Rae Rae interjected. “I really was hoping you wouldn’t know that part.”

 

“Catechism,” Ella repeated. “BFFs with the Angel of Death since I was eight and she basically set me up with Satan and not in that way cause I love you, Luce, but totally as a _hermano_. I’m on the outs with the Big Guy, and now I’m thinking some crazy flamey afterlife is in my future, and I can’t cut your tail off because I’m not going to hurt you or put you in pain. Plus, I have like zero idea how to do it!”

 

“Cutting parts off is easier than it sounds. I’ve had to do my own wings before. This is just in a harder to maneuver place,” Lucifer replied as if that were a sentence that resembled sanity.

 

Ella and she both found a détente in their argument long enough to step closer to Lucifer and touch him. Rae Rae rested a hand on his cheek, and Ella grabbed his right forearm. Her human friend, somehow, found the courage to speak first. “You did what?”

 

Lucifer pulled away from them both and hunched his shoulders. “‘S not a big deal. I cut my wings off…a few times. Buggering things grew back every time. I don’t want a tail…don’t want any extra devil bits or angel bits I didn’t sign up for. My head’s not in the best place so I can’t just will them away.”

 

“What do you mean?” Rae Rae asked, completely confused.

 

Ella frowned. “Self-actualization he said. Angels and their subconscious dictate how they look. You’ve never had that problem?”

 

Rae Rae shook her head, and for the first time, felt nausea. That had never happened to her before but she’d always liked herself. Maybe she loathed her job cause it was boring and pretty sad, but she’d never seen herself as anything but the angel she was. If Lu’s own mind was forcing tails and Dad knew what else onto him…

 

_His face._

 

Like all the other angels, she assumed it had been his punishment. Their siblings who had sided with Lucifer in the rebellion had been snuffed from all existence by Father as their punishment. Lu had been banished but everyone, even Michael, had assumed that the Devil face stuff was the cherry on the shit sundae from Dad.

 

_He’d done it to himself all this time? Crap, how badly did he feel about himself?_

 

Rae Rae turned to Ella, and for once, touched her friend, landing her free hand on the small of Ella’s back. “We need some time, Ella. We have to catch up on things and it’s so late that it’s early. I…make whatever excuse you can at the precinct for him. If stuff needs to get cut off, it’s a family thing.”

 

Ella took steps back from both of them and nodded. “I’m still mad at both of you for lying.” Her expression softened though when she looked at Lucifer. “But mad doesn’t mean grossed out or like I’m never coming back. I deserved to know about Rae Rae…Azrael so much sooner, but I’m coming back.” She leaned up and kissed Lucifer chastely on the cheek. “But I won’t mutilate you. I just can’t. Please don’t ask.”

 

Rae Rae couldn’t quite read the expression on her brother’s face, if it were shock or gratitude or a mix of both. He nodded and gestured around his apartment. “Mi casa es su casa, _hermanita_. I won’t ask that again. If Rae Rae is stopping in more, well, perhaps she can help with the _Saw_ style things I need.”

 

Ella blanched as she headed toward the elevator. “Don’t even joke.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

She slid into the open elevator and looked between both of them. “I’m gonna crash out, go to work somehow, and be back later. It’s not…just don’t do anything more stupid than usual. I need time to think, but I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Thank you, Ella. I can’t tell you how I appreciate that promise.”

 

The doors started to slide close and she nodded. “Well, you know I’m going to come back since deals with the Devil are non-negotiable, right?”

 

“I do.”

 

 

 

With that, the doors closed, and the elevator carried her down and out of the building. Lucifer was quiet for a long, agonizing moment before striding to the bar and grabbing the bottle of whiskey. He opened it and drank directly from it. As far as Rae Rae knew, trying to get drunk for angels was almost pointless. They had excellent metabolisms and resiliency (plus she’d always hated the taste in general, except Cosmos. Those rocked.). If he were going to get drunk, he’d have to clear out handles upon handles of the stuff.

 

She bit her lip and pondered if he already had while she and Ella were out.

 

“Are you mad?”

 

“You’ve heard of Chernobyl, right Sis?”

 

She nodded. “So not my favorite place to collect from.”

 

“I’m Chernobyl levels of angry with you, yes. Tonight could have gone infinitely better.”

 

“Could have gone worse,” she countered. “Ella’s coming back. She doesn’t lie either.”

 

He drank a long draught before speaking again. “I suppose another reason why you sent her to me.”

 

“Yes. But Lu, I don’t regret that she knows. I think it’s a ton for her to handle right now.”

  
“Understatement.”

 

“But, she can’t…don’t make her cut into her best friend.”

 

Lucifer shook his head and set down the bottle. Gesturing to his tail which had wagged behind him much like that of a cat the whole time, he just glared at her. “It still needs to go. Thus, Azrael, you’ve just been nominated to help me. Congratulations.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dan asks a favor by proxy from Ella.

**Chapter Six**

She took the Aston again. Her car was still at the precinct. She’d Uber over in the afternoon---and thank the universe for the second shift since no way she could start at eight a.m.---to work. Even with the top down and driving far too fast for the city streets, nothing seemed to soothe Ella’s racing mind.

 

It was all real. Not that she hadn’t believed, at least had a lot of faith once upon a time. She had. Her family was devout, and she’d grown up with both weekly church service and Wednesday mass as a kid. Not to mention tales of the mystical from around her neighborhood in Detroit, legends of the local _curanderas_ and _brujas_. If anyone was receptive to the idea of Heaven, Hell, and everything in between, it would be she. But this was different. This was her in the middle of a fight with God. The God, capital G, and she was terrified that maybe she’d picked the wrong side. It didn’t feel wrong. Even if knowing Rae Rae had messed up her whole life, she’d always felt safe. A ghost, erm, _angel_ apparently but one after her own heart who could be as nerdy as she was. A haven to rely on when she popped in who got her in ways her brothers never could.

 

And Lucifer was her friend. He hadn’t exactly lied, although Ella maintained that compartmentalizing was almost as bad as lying, and he’d always been so attentive to her. So much like the brother she’d always wanted. But he was Satan like _The Satan_ , and how she felt about him didn’t match what she’d been taught at church. It was one thing to think that the Devil had gotten a bad rap---and he had cause like an apple was worth expulsion from Eden, please---but it was another to be avoiding God yet sidling up next to the Prince of Darkness.

 

It couldn’t bode well for her immortal soul that the two people on the planet she was closest to were the Devil and the Angel of Death. Shit, did that mean something was fundamentally wrong with her?

 

_Am I broken?_

 

Ella pulled into the garage under her apartment complex and parked. It took everything she had to get out of the Aston and shuffle into the elevator and eventually to her place. It was almost 4:30 a.m., and the adrenaline rush of the mind fuck she’d been through was wearing off. All it left in its wake were sore muscles, a crinked up neck, and the bone-deep weariness that only came from a lack of hormones flooding her body.

 

She flicked the lights on and sighed. Since her loss of faith after Charlotte’s murder and Pierce’s betrayal, Ella hadn’t just stopped wearing her cross. She’d stopped going to church, of course, although since the siege at Lux she’d tamped down on crazy hobbies like drinking all weekend or the bathtub chicken idea, which had been awful. She’d spent a month just getting the smell out. And no one had told her how freaking messy those things were! But she’d taken down a few paintings from her walls. They were lying face flat against the walls, but she’d still kept a few candles on the counter that separated her galley kitchen from her den. The Virgin Mary stared back at her from near her refrigerator and Ella’s mind spiraled down that rabbit hole again.

 

_I’m going to Hell. I am seriously damned here, and I can’t…why would the Big Guy do any of this?_

 

And that was the biggest kicker. It wasn’t even that she was apparently best friends with two beings who would scare most people into gibbering messes. Again, what did that even say about her? It was more that they were good people. Yeah, Rae Rae lied and badly far too often. Of course, now that she knew exactly what Rae Rae was, Ella could explain the lies now. She didn’t condone it, but it probably wouldn’t have made a difference if she’d told her parents she saw and angel instead of a ghost. She’d still have been in therapy either way. But Rae Rae’s lies aside and, well, if you excused Lucifer’s debauchery, they were some of the most loyal, considerate people she knew. As far as she could tell, Rae Rae was still copasetic with their Dad---you know God. But Lucifer…if the tail were any indication and, you know, the whole story of the Fall and ruling Hell were anything like Sunday school said, then the Big Guy had set up his son for so much punishment.

 

And pain.

 

She rubbed at the back of her neck and dragged herself to her bedroom. Slipping her cell out of her jeans pocket, Ella set it on the bedside table. Then she undid her jeans and slid out of her bra. She didn’t even bother to take of her t-shirt, just maneuvered everything off like a sixth-grader trying not to fully change in the locker room. She slid under the covers, but her mind wouldn’t turn off. The red dials of her digital clock on her dresser mocked her, slowly moving forward until four-thirty became five-fifteen.

 

_Maybe they’re up…it’s seven in Detroit but Mom and Dad…_

 

It was stupid. Rae Rae hadn’t been wrong in begging Ella to stay in Los Angeles. Her family was far from a comfort, hadn’t been since she was in middle school and confessed about her friend, but she needed something. She needed to ground herself because the last eight hours had been utterly insane. Maybe she was just going truly nuts and nothing---not Lucifer and not Rae Rae were even real.

 

_Un montón de locuras._

 

Her hand shook as she dialed her family’s home and she waited, not sure which, if any, of them would answer. On the fourth ring, her mother’s voice sounded over the line. It was wavery and unfocused, and Ella knew she’d woken her mom from a deep sleep.

 

“Ella? _Mija_ , what’s wrong?”

 

She swallowed hard because her first instinct had been to cackle, to start laughing and never stop. How did she tell her mother who she’d been keeping company with? How did she tell her that for the first time in her life, Ella wasn’t even sure God was the good guy from the Bible? She couldn’t. Instead, she forced her voice to be falsely bright and offered what little truth she could.

 

See, compartmentalizing.

 

“It’s just…we had a really hard case come in.” That wasn’t untrue. Dan had been assigned a case of a sixteen-year-old football star who seemed to have been the victim of a hazing gone wrong, but they were still on the case of proving it. Kids always hit Ella the hardest. “I just thought I could sleep it off, but it’s been hard.”

 

Her mother slipped into Spanish, praying a little on her end. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“Teenager. It’s harder when they’re young, and it just… _Mamí_ , I haven’t been to church in almost nine months. I lost a friend…she was murdered, and it was just so hard. Now, I don’t know what I believe, and that hurts.” She took in a sharp breath. “Now with this, uh, case…” _And the fact my best friend is_ el diablo _, but I can’t even say that out loud._ “It’s hitting me hard.”

 

“You need to get back to the flock, _mija_.”

 

“I can’t. I thought maybe, but why do things have to be so hard? Why did Charlotte have to die or some kid just starting their life get killed?” _Why do the Angel of Death and the Devil act like God isn’t the source of warmth and light I thought he was?_ “I just…it’s so hard to have faith.”

 

“If it were easy, then everyone would have it.” Her mother sighed on the other end. “Ella, are you still taking your medication? Ricardo didn’t keep a very good eye on you while he was out there.”

 

Understatement. She’d been the one trying to keep an eye on him, and his far less-than-legal chop shop empire. He’d never returned the favor by checking in on her. And she doubted he ever would have even if he’d stayed five more years. Of course, knowing Ricardo, he’d painted a completely different picture for their mother who’d always been partial to her boys. Snowed by them with a hug or a wink.

 

“ _Mamí_ , I’m fine. I’m taking care of my problem.”

 

In truth, Ella hadn’t taken her medication since she’d come to Los Angeles. It had been an additional perk of being time zones away from her family. Of course, assuming she hadn’t gone batshit overnight, she’d never needed the antipsychotics to begin with. And, okay, maybe she also hated Rae Rae and Lucifer some too, especially her childhood best friend. They’d really messed with her head, whether they’d meant to or not.

 

“Ella, _no sea una mentirosa_. Don’t lie to me. If you’re off your meds, then you need to come home. It’ll only be a matter of time before you lose your job. I don’t know why your father and I and your _abuela_ let you go all the way out there to begin with. It’s better here with your family. We can take care of you.”

 

She gritted her teeth and tried not to raise her voice. “I’ve been living and working in L.A. for three years now, and I’m an integral part of the team. Last time I thought about moving home, the detective I work closest with and her chief consultant begged me to stay. I have a home here.” _I think_. “I just can’t leave that.”

 

“I understand, but if you ever do need to come home…your family understands you. Your friends don’t know about you. They couldn’t possibly.”

 

Ella was so very tired and didn’t have the energy to tell her mother that Chloe knew about what Ella’d assumed was the “I see dead people” thing and still supported her. Clearly, Lucifer had known far more about her so-called ghost friend than Ella ever had. They wouldn’t mock her. Even Chloe who just thought Ella assumed she was a medium or whatever, had always been kind about it.

 

Her friends had her back.

 

And Rae Rae wasn’t wrong; it was more than her brothers had ever done for her.

 

“It’s just a big case. I’m tired, and I thought you could help. I love you, you know? I really love all of you.”

 

“Then come home, _mija_. We miss you.”

 

She inhaled sharply and hoped she sounded cheery enough to pass muster. “I miss you guys too. I’ll call later today. Bye, _Mamí,_ tell everyone I miss them.”

 

With that she clicked off and settled under the covers for a fitful sleep filled with fire, brimstone, and bloodied white feathers.

**

“Ella? Are you okay?” Dan asked.

 

She nodded and handed him the work up she’d done on the particulates found under the football player’s fingernails. “Fine!” Her eyes seemed to be drawn to the drawer at the far corner of her lab. The one where her necklace was still hidden. Part of her wanted to shove it back on and beg the Big Guy for forgiveness for the last nine months. The other part was considering donating it to a _Goodwill_ because she wasn’t sure she’d ever need it again. “There is skin under the nails, and I ran it through the usual databases. There were no matches, but---”

 

“I’m not surprised because if a fellow student did it, there’s a slim chance they’re already in the registries,” Dan finished.

 

She nodded. “Totally, I have some blood on the clothing and I don’t think all of it has come back as Type A, like the vic’s. I’ll see what else I can find, but if the fellow football players aren’t already in the system…it’s just hard.”

 

Dan tapped the Manilla folder of readouts she’d given him against his thigh, as if that would help spur on ideas he needed. “You know, I really hate Lucifer.”

 

She held her tongue about how much she knew he did. Internal Affairs had called her almost three months ago, questioning her about which officers could have possibly had unsanctioned contact with Tiernan. She’d traced the logs and then deleted Dan’s. She’d meant to talk to him, to apologize for having her own spiral and not being a good enough friend for him when he lost Charlotte. Part of her worried she was still enabling his crooked tendencies, the ones she’d heard whispers about after she’d arrived with all the Palmetto fall out. Part of her felt his actions were partially her fault and Chloe’s for being too self-involved to notice his pain. At either rate, he’d almost lost Trixie because of it, and since then had seemed to pull back, to be more on the straight and narrow as far as she could tell.

 

Maybe her call had been the right one.

 

Or maybe her road to Hell was paved with good intentions and hiding her friends’ sins. She just didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know _anything_ anymore.

 

“Ella? Are you sure you’re okay? You keep spacing?”

 

“Yeah, I promised an M.E. friend to go to this convention thing so I’m planning out what I need to grab at _Michael’s_ for a costume. You know me and cosplay!” _Or furry stuff_.

 

Dan nodded. “Still, Lucifer not being benched would help a lot. I could really use that nightclub act of his, getting people to confess out of nowhere? For a kid…that might actually be worth it. The prep school’s pretty elite and everyone’s lawyered up heavily. You know how those types of kids are.”

 

“I’ve heard,” she admitted. “Not exactly the type I ran with back home.”

 

“I did back in Texas. I mean, my family wasn’t rich but I had a sports scholarship. Those type of brats…they don’t learn, never do. But Colin Whitmore didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

 

“I dunno, that’s Chloe’s call.”

 

“Maybe I can poach him this once.”  


Ella forced herself not to blanche, even if her mind flashed back to Lucifer’s very long, very red and fuzzy---seriously what the fuck---tail. Until he and Rae Rae found a solution, and hopefully, not one that involved amputation and tons of blood, Luce wouldn’t be help to anyone.

 

“He had some deliveries today at Lux that his GM couldn’t take. Vacation or something, and you know Maze has been busy with Charlie. So, he’s actually doing club running. I mean, Chloe had second shift too, and whatever, but I’m sure if you ask him when he’s, uh, back soon, he’d think it over. You know he hates paperwork.”

 

Dan nodded, and she was glad he’d been distracted lately too, that he hadn’t noticed or nervousness. Or he didn’t care. Whichever was a boon for her. She needed the lack of scrutiny. “Great. I still say Charlotte would be alive if not for him, and Pierce’s ass would have been in jail and not involved in a shootout it was a miracle Chloe even lived through.”

 

Ella frowned. She didn’t interject that Dan seemed unconcerned that Lucifer had been set up too. It wasn’t like _he_ knew the consultant was invulnerable to things like bone saws and probably bullets. But at the same time, Dan didn’t seem to care either way.

 

“But you need him? Like a tool?” And there was a bit of raw anger in her voice. It was enough for Dan to narrow his eyes back at her.

 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. I’ll ask him tomorrow. You’re right; he’s probably bored stiff anyway. Might as well take his show back on the road.” He waved the folder in front of her and offered her a genuine smile. “Thanks, Ella. I really appreciate the work out. You’re a total saint.”

 

She swallowed hard once the door had slammed shut behind him. Ella was many things, and she knew that now. Apparently, if given the chance, a party girl who had made out (and liked it) with literally the first woman ever was one of those things. As was an amateur chicken wrangler (though not very successfully). Furry, nerd, car thief. She could go on. But she was pretty sure “saint” wasn’t one of those things.

 

Hell, considering her two best friends, Ella had to wonder what exactly the opposite of a saint even was? _Satanist? Heretic?_ It was so confusing, but whatever it was, she was as far from a saint as you could get.

 

It was about all she was sure of these days.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Azrael helps Lucifer do the unthinkable.

**Chapter Seven**

“Are you drunk?” Azrael asked him, and she had no right to take such a judgmental tone with him. Draining more handles than he’d strictly kept count of tonight to deal with eventual amputation pain made sense. It wasn’t a sign of bigger problems. It wasn’t. “I think you’re totally swaying.”

 

Lucifer stood and made the effort to keep himself upright and from swaying. He was still too sober for what was coming next, but he’d manage. He’d had close to a dozen pairs of wings sawed off, done it himself, hadn’t he? If his words slurred just a little as he spoke, surely that was his imagination.

 

Gesturing to his offending appendage, he glared down regally (at least he thought he was managing that) at Azrael. “I’m going to start on getting rid of my problem. Chop-chop, and all that. You talked Ella out of it, so you’re elected to help me.” He reached around and his tail, as if it knew what was coming, flicked away from his inebriated grasp. Lucifer grumbled and caught it a second time. “Ha! Got you. I don’t think I can keep it still and get it sawed through all in one go.”

 

Azrael’s eyes seemed shiny even from behind the thick glasses she wore. And she chided him about not being British. What kind of angel had less that twenty-twenty vision? _What kind of whatever you are has a tail?_ Point. Maybe self-actualization had hit Sis while on earth too, at least if she needed glasses. Surely, even if he hadn’t been to the Silver City in eons…well, surely she was the only one who required them.

 

_Seriously, Dad, maybe designing isn’t your strong suit…_

 

His sister stood and followed him toward the bathroom. He caught her worrying her lower lip before he turned his attention from her and focused on carefully taking Maze’s blade from the top of the piano. Demon steel sliced easily through any Celestial or demon; it could land a fatal blow to anything except a Marked Cain. The more delicate he was with it, the better. He wanted the bloody tail gone, not to lose anything else unexpectedly. Ditto for Sis.

 

Once they marched into his bathroom, his little sister gave an appreciative whistle. “Holy crap! This is like the size of the entire apartments of some humans I collect.”  


Despite the solemnity of the occasion, Lucifer couldn’t help but set the blade down on the sink and then turn back to grin at her. “I don’t do anything small scale, Azrael.”

 

She nodded and raked her eyes over his bathroom, clearly taking into account the Italian marble, the double shower with more jets than he’d ever bothered to counter up, the triple vanity (it made getting his guests out in the morning easier and it wasn’t as if he tended to do less than a threesome when he was swinging and single), and the giant, jetted tub at the far end, which could accommodate four easily. Five if the four besides him were gymnasts. Long story, but a good one, that.

 

“Wow.”

 

He shrugged. “I’m on holiday. Creature comforts are a given, especially with a penthouse.”  


Azrael shook her head. “I bet your closet is as big as an apartment too.”

 

“Depends on the flat. If it’s one of those tiny lofts in New York or even here, then assuredly so.”

 

His sister rolled her eyes. “You’re still _not_ British.”

 

He shrugged and slipped off his suit jacket and then undid his cufflinks to make slipping off his shirt easier. Handing both of them off to her, he nodded toward his bedroom. “Be a luv and lay those on the bed. Delicately, please, they wrinkle and it’s a right pain to get out.”

 

Brat didn’t quite do as she was told and dumped them unceremoniously on his bed. Well, off to the dry cleaners it would be with both as soon as he could leave the penthouse again. He got a bit of justice out of the whole situation by one-upping her. Lucifer had turned back to face his sinks and slipped out of his trousers. Considering she’d just chuck them on the mattress like yesterday’s rubbish, he opted instead to lay them on the lip of his tub.

 

Azrael groaned even as she took the blade’s hilt. “You have to be naked for this?”

 

“Complaints, complaints. I’m not thrilled with this arrangement either.”

 

“Then even better Ella’s not here.”

 

He grinned and hoped she caught the look reflected in his vanity mirror. “Oh Ella’s seen me naked.”

 

His sister slapped him hard on the shoulder with her free hand. Oh, there was that less than peachy warrior he remembered. Azrael could still hit quite hard. “Dude! I sent her to you for sisterly bonding. Is there like anyone in L.A. you haven’t fucked?”

 

He stilled and took in a shuddering breath. There were still some he hadn’t. Straight men and lesbians of course hadn’t been on his list. Then there were those who just fell below his standards, which for the men were exceptionally high. He’d always liked a gorgeous man, one that stood out in the club like a beacon shined down on him. Women…for some reason he was more flexible on, could do with less than a nine. But, yes, he hadn’t slept with some. Ella, of course, because she was so like his sister, but also the detective.

 

The unfortunate incident from the masquerade flashed through his mind. He had not idea what she’d seen. It had been bad enough to have the claws and the red, broken skin all over. The bat wings that Lucifer loathed and couldn’t get to go back in. The rest…dear Dad, what had the rest even looked like?

 

No, he hadn’t slept with everyone in L.A., and whatever could have been once with Chloe was surely gone.

 

“Lu? This is, uh, awkward enough. You can’t just space out on me.”

 

“I just…of course I’ve not slept with Ella. We’re friends.”

 

“Then?”

 

“We did go undercover at a nudist colony. She was game to go in too, so I’ve seen her bum and then some.”

 

Azrael laughed despite everything. “That sounds like you.”

 

“Well, the killer was caught.” _And paralyzed_. That was where all of it had started to plummet, hadn’t it? With the younger Tiernan in a body brace. If he hadn’t…would things be all buggered up now? Probably, but, then again, if it was all his own subconscious then maybe it was just a matter of time before his mind had turned completely on his body. “But I’m not thrilled either with this arrangement, but I want to get as much of this sodding thing off as possible. You can get closer with---”

 

“Skin to blade?”

 

“Exactly.” He eyed the blade as she gripped it. “Are you ready?”

 

“I am not, not at all. This is a bad idea.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll just go around L.A. with a Devil tail for the conceivable future. That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

 

“Wow, I forgot how much disdain you could put into just one sentence.”

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. If Amenadiel and Linda wouldn’t be guaranteed no’s, he’d have asked them by now. Maze would have made fun of him for the rest of eternity. She was _not_ to be called. Still, getting anyone to help him with this cock up was frustrating as, well, Hell. Azrael was not making this easy on him.

 

“I forgot how little you actually listened to me.”

 

“That’s what you love about me, Lu.”

 

He smirked at that. Lucifer couldn’t deny her that point. Once upon a time, angels of a feather had flocked together. “I can’t live like this. I refuse to be unable to leave the penthouse.”

 

“Well, it _is_ a pretty sweet set up.”

 

“Don’t Tom Sawyer me.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“So _Bond_ you get? But Twain eludes you?”

 

“Most of us haven’t slept with the bulk of the world’s authors and musicians.”

 

“I wouldn’t say ‘the bulk.’”

 

“Groupie,” she chirped, far too content with herself. “Are you sure you can’t just channel your inner Jedi, and make it schloop back in?”

 

“Yes, why ever didn’t I think about that in the last six hours?”

 

“Okay, I think you can probably actually kill people with sarcasm too.”

 

“Not immortals, now, please, Sis, get to the slicing.”

 

Azrael sighed heavily and her fingers wrapped around his tail and, bollocks, even as drunk as he was (or could get without the detective in the building), Lucifer could still feel far too much. Fuck, he hoped that his tail wasn’t more sensitive than his wings. Cutting things off was a necessity. He wasn’t so far gone that he found it pleasant. Despite some light BDSM in his life, he was far from a masochist.

 

“Alright Lu---one, two…”

 

She cut before reaching three and he bit his teeth hard. It wasn’t the blinding pain of Maze’s blade scraping through flesh and bone that was the worst. Oh, it was bad, and he’d somehow managed to forget how painful the wing excisions had been. But it was the sound. The grinding of steel on bone that made him bite his inner cheek till blood welled up. If he screamed, even shuddered, he knew that his sister would stop and the only thing worse than having a tail would be having half of one hanging by ichor and gore from his backside.

 

Finally, after interminable moments, and this would be in his Hell loop if he ever got caught in one again, there was a thunk on the floor and the terrible, haunting scrapes had stopped. He reached for a towel immediately and wrapped it around his waist. Being naked in front of his sister wasn’t exactly his favorite thing either. Family was ironically a sacred thing, but necessary medical evils and all that.

 

She hurried to the main living area by the bar and rushed back with the trashcan in hand. He didn’t turn around until she’d shoved the blasted tail into the trashcan, covered it with several towels---best use of Egyptian cotton in history in his opinion---and deposited it far away on the edge of his balcony.

 

Lucifer grabbed the first aid kit he kept under his sink. He hadn’t kept one before, but then he’d found himself at first shot and with a mortality situation that he didn’t understand. Then, he’d had Eve around and kept a full assortment of things in case of another siege or Dad knew what happening to them. It never hurt to have it around, lest the detective stop in and he get buggered up.

 

Well…maybe not now. It wasn’t like the detective would just randomly end up in his lair any time soon, if ever.

 

Striding with a confidence he didn’t feel to the bed, he sat down at set the first aid kit to his side. His sister, and now her eyes weren’t just shiny but wet tracks had worked her way down her cheeks. Lucifer stood and hugged Azrael tightly. She was stiff at first, and considering the circumstances both with what he’d asked her to do and how many thousands of years it had been since he’d been this close to her, Lucifer couldn’t blame her. Eventually, she relaxed in his grip and he held her as she shook.

 

He remembered this, remembered comforting her after their older siblings (usually Michael and Gabriel, though never Amenadiel with her) had mocked her. They never quite fit, and maybe it was why they both had their own types of exile to work through.

 

Finally, she pulled away and gestured toward his closet. “I get the, uh, not the time for pants yet part and yay for fluffy bath sheets, totally…”

 

He arched an eyebrow at her. “But?”

  
“Do you have a t-shirt. Wait, you do buy them?”

 

“I most assuredly do not, but I have this green monstrosity I received on a case. My shirt had been ruined.”

 

“The tragedy.”

 

“It was Prada. Definitely a tragedy,” he affirmed.

 

She trotted to the closet and after a few minutes spent bitching about how large it was and that a “serial killer could be hiding in here and you’d never know” style rants, Azrael returned with the old t-shirt from Pop’s restaurant. Chuckling, she tossed it to him. “Do I want to know?”

 

He caught it effortlessly and slipped the t-shirt over his head. “The life of a police consultant is varied. Or, well, it was.”

 

She sat on the bed first and he followed suit, comforted when their shoulders touched. He’d missed her so much. In Hell, Maze had been his real only comfort and consort, but theirs had been a business relationship. Now, he hoped they were doing better, working to being real friends and family, now that she was even more protective over his nephew than he was. But it had been so long away from family. Amenadiel had grown to be his closest ally. Hell, the idiot had asked him to be Charlie’s godfather, which was stark raving mad on the face of it, but Lucifer had agreed eventually after Linda had also begged him. She’d been fried by Mum for him. His psychiatrist might not quite know it yet, but she could ask him for anything, and he’d hardly deny her.

 

But this was his sister, and for a few, fleeting moment, he could pretend they were back in the Silver City---not that it had ever been decorated with as much taste, take that Dad---and things were possible again.

 

That he wasn’t so bloody trapped in a cage of his own making.

 

“Do you need me to, oh man. Do I have to clean that too? You like heal still right?”

 

“Demon blade is the only reason it cut at all, Sis.”

 

“Okay, but I don’t…this is a lot more sibling togetherness than I anticipated, Lu.”

 

“I’ll give you a few and just some peroxide. Honestly the rest should heal up on its own by sunrise.”

 

She swung her feet against the mattress, her heels hitting it in a regular rhythm. “What if it grows back?”

 

He sighed and focused on the carpet beneath him. “The wings did. Still have them in point of fact.”

 

He did not specify what type of wings; he couldn’t bear for his sister to know. In fact, no one knew about them but Chloe and Linda. He hoped to keep it that way until he could get a handle on his own trauma.

 

Her hand was on his cheek, soft and comforting, something he probably didn’t deserve after what he’d just put her through. “Why would you cut off your wings?”  


“I did when I decided to make my holiday in Los Angeles permanent. I was trying to forge my own path away from Dad.”

 

“When aren’t you?”

 

“But no wings, harder to be forced back to Hell. It didn’t take, not eventually, and I gave up and except the damn plumage.” At least it had been until Tiernan, Jr. “For a while, I just needed them gone.”

 

“You were mutilating yourself. We just did that together.”

 

“A tail is not part of me, that’s a trick of my mind and my subconscious.”

 

“You keep saying that, but I’ve never seen anyone in the Silver City…”

 

He turned and glared at her, having a damn hard time controlling his temper. And his shame. Shouting he could do; anger he could channel. Deflecting, right? That was what Linda called it. “And how many have glasses? How many feel such guilt their wings rot off and they lose their power to stop time?”

 

Azrael let out a sharp puff of air as if he’d slugged her, and he instantly felt like the ass he was for rounding on her. “I’d heard rumors about Amenadiel falling, but he was fine when he showed back up at the Silver City months ago. I saw him when I was bringing up a load of humans from a bus crash.”

 

“Well, rumors of his fitness were somewhat exaggerated. He got over his guilt enough for the wings to grow back, much to poor Charlotte’s benefit, but he can no longer stop time.” He sighed but kept the icy tone in his voice. “Why do you need glasses, Rae Rae?”

 

“I dunno. I just figured some angels have all the luck. I got them…well, honestly, I realized I needed them a little after Ella’s accident.”

 

“Because it became real for you for the first time since you’d started. For the first time in six thousand years, you had a human face to put with the accidents and carnage Dad makes you sift through, and you simply didn’t wish to see it as clearly as you had before. So you _can’t_.”

 

She stood and started to pace. “That’s not…it’s not possible.”

 

“You just cut off my tail. I think we’ve established that, with angels, anything we can dream up---deep down---we can do to ourselves.”

 

She stilled and her eyes, so large and owl like behind her glasses, regarded him and gave him no place to hide. “I wasn’t there.”  


“Where?”

 

“The day…” It was her turn to look down at the floor, at her scuffed sneakers. He really needed to teach her anything about fashion. She was even worse at it than Amenadiel, and that was saying something. “…when Dad had you dragged out in front of everyone in chains. When you’d really lost.”

 

He rubbed his side, an old phantom pain that only visited him in nightmares and long, lonely nights. “When Michael gave me a bonus stab for my trouble and they booted me out of the Silver City, yeah?”

 

“I couldn’t watch.” She wrung her hands in front of him, and he hated her just a bit in that moment.

She’d loved him, and he had no doubt he was her favorite brother because most of their siblings were utter pillocks, but she hadn’t loved him enough. Not to side with him just _once_ over Dad. Then again, the two dozen who had, well, they’d been eradicated with a snap of Dad’s fingers to ash. He’d have loathed himself even more if that fate had befallen Azrael.

 

“Oh. I was a bit busy at the time. Didn’t realize you were catching a breather.”

 

“Lu, I’m serious!”

 

“I know, but I try not to travel down memory lane too much if I can avoid it. Too many bad avenues there.”

 

“I know, but I just meant that I didn’t…I never saw your face change.”

 

“I’m sure it was quite the show that day. I’m bloody sure the Silver City gossip _still_ revolves around it. Nothing ever changes in that sodding place but me.”

 

Azrael didn’t deny it, and it proved his point. Even if all was somehow magically forgiven tomorrow, he’d never go back to Heaven. The lot of hypocrites and sycophants deserved each other. “I’m sorry. I just…are you saying you did it to yourself?”

 

Lucifer shrugged. “I’m not sure what to believe sometimes. I’d always assumed Dad had---”

 

“Me too!”

 

“But I’m doing something to myself now, and I can’t seem to stop it. It spread very badly five weeks ago. I was everything any raving prophet or so-called Biblical scholar would have painted me as. Had a friend walk me back, but I was hoping it was going to stop. It’s creeping back and I have fuck all idea what to do about it.”

 

“Not Ella,” his sister said, her tone bright and sure. “Who helped you before?”

 

“The detective I work with.”

 

“Chloe! She’s really nice. She totally is chill with Ella seeing ghosts, well, just me but still.”

 

It was his turn to be surprised. “Chloe knows about you?”

 

“No, Ella told her last time I was in town that she saw a ghost. Chloe’s very understanding. It’s a good thing she knows about you.”

 

“It bloody well isn’t!” He snapped and it took every ounce of his control to keep his eyes from flashing. He was terrified if he let even that much shift, then he wouldn’t be able to change it back. Besides, his sister had never _seen_ all of it, nothing even close. He didn’t want to lose the faith and adoration still in her eyes. Not that. He’d lost too much already. Lucifer stood and stormed out to the bar. He was sobering up too quickly for his liking. “I can’t put her through that again. It frightens her. _I_ frighten her.”

 

A soft hand was on his shoulder as he poured some bourbon. Wasn’t his go-to drink, but he’d worked through half his stash tonight. “Lu, we’ll figure it out, okay. Ella’s really smart, and maybe there’s…I can get to the Silver City and the library there. Maybe there’s something.”

 

He snorted but his tone was muted, the fight leeched from him. “Dear old Dad never saw fit to tell any of us about self-actualization, doubt he left a manual on it back home.”

 

She coughed loudly until he faced her. “ _I_ ’ _m_ going to help you. I have thousands of years to make up for.”

 

“I could have bumped into you too on my walkabouts. ‘S not all you.”

 

“Then, I’ll fix this, but I need to know what even set this off. Why did you start going all Jekyll and Hyde?”

 

“Oh, that book you have heard of. Perfect.”

 

She rolled her eyes, and, alright, if Azrael accused him of being theatrical, then she wasn’t always wrong. “Why, Lu?”

 

“Because I had a bloody epiphany. And I wish my psychiatrist---I know so L.A.---had told me these things had prices. Never would have had one if I’d known.”

 

She stood on tiptoes so that both of her hands were on his shoulders. “What did you realize?”

 

He closed his eyes and let the words tumble out, just as every ounce of strength and resilience felt leeched from him. “I hate myself.”

 

Her sister hugged him again, and he was grateful for her being back, even with the history between them. “But you shouldn’t.”

  
Lucifer let himself have a few more precious seconds in her embrace before he pulled away from a hug he didn’t deserve. “You don’t know a fraction of what I’ve done, and you were there for The Fall. Sis, I’m a _monster_.”

 

She shook her head but then cursed under her breath. “There’s an overturned ocean liner in the Mediterranean. Needs my full attention, can’t just split focus. It’s pretty bad, Lu.”

 

“Oh.”  


“I will be back, and we will so be talking about all of this.” She stilled and then squeezed his hand. “You’re not a monster, and Dad can be a total jerk. I’ll be back, okay? Uh, don’t do anything Amenadiel wouldn’t do while I’m gone.”

 

“So, I’m free to knock up a human?”

 

“What?!?”

 

“I see the gossip mill has only gone so far up there,” he said, forcing himself to laugh. He needed to get back some levity. Anything resembling equilibrium. “Go, I’d never wish this job on you, but you do it well.”

 

“Feeling’s mutual,” she said, and her wings sprouted behind her, mottled like an Osprey’s. “Smell you later.”

 

And with a strong breeze, she was gone.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella recruits Lucifer's help on the prep school hazing case.

**Chapter Eight**

The breeze ruffled through his hair and Lucifer stifled the odd, outdated urge to unfurl his wings and let the air sift through them. That was a habit from the Silver City, that relaxed preening. It had returned hardcore for months after the damn things had grown back (over and over) almost two years ago. It was the second factor besides his ire at thinking Dad was manipulating him that drove him to cut the blasted things off on a loop until he eventually gave it all up.

 

The wings abided.

 

So did the urge to let them out, once in a while. Of course, sitting on the beach where he’d first had Maze severe them more than seven years prior, and not too far from where he and the detective had shared one of a precious few kisses in their mixed up, doomed courtship, just made him want to roll the muscles in his shoulders all the more. Let them out.

 

If he did, Lucifer figured they’d be the wrong type of wings---the beastly ones he’d struggled so hard to retract back during the masquerade ball gone wrong---and the odds he could even put them back in were infinitesimal. So, he shoved that instinct aside and focused out on the water and the setting sun.

 

He’d passed out after pouring half a bottle of peroxide on his backside and woken up to a text about four p.m. Ella had sent a rambling (figured a bit) yet very apologetic missive about having to work extra long on one of Dan’s cases. She promised to be by in the morning, and then begged him to take the bone saw back to Temecula. He’d almost have been hurt by the rebuffing, but she’d finished everything with a smiley face devil emoji, and Lucifer figured she was being earnest. If she was rolling with everything well enough to joke that much, he assumed she’d keep her promise and see him for breakfast in the morning.

 

So, he’d shrugged on a different pair of sweatpants---which, there were advantages to an “in case I destroy your clothes during foreplay” closet section---and a black t-shirt, the one he’d donned the night the detective had shot him, and delivered the saw back to the M.E.’s office in Ella’s place. His tailor wouldn’t have any trousers ready for him before Saturday, which was bloody inconvenient, but since he wore everything as tight as he could, well, there wasn’t any room left for the bit of a nub still left.

 

Azrael had cut as close as she could, but it wouldn’t mesh with the tapering of slim line trousers.

 

So casual it was, which, he supposed had some advantages as sand never came out of Armani well. It was an indulgence, and as up and down as his body was being these days, also a risk. But he’d been driving back to the heart of the city from the coroner’s lab, and just felt like taking the detour. It left him gazing out at the bright orange and mauve splaying out across the waves.

 

He sighed and raked a hand through his in no way at all curling hair. It was quiet on the beach, the families and tourists who had gathered there dispersing as dark started to fall and for dinner. There was probably no one to notice a slightly disheveled man (or close enough), starting to talk under his breath.

 

“Hope you’re happy,” Lucifer muttered more to himself than his Father.

 

After all, no one had heard from Dad in words since the Amenadiel had been instructed to bless Penelope Decker. Yes, he’d been returned from Hell and given the vision of Mum escaping Hell. Dad being indirect as always. But as far as even Amenadiel knew, no one had heard directly from Father in decades. And it wasn’t like Dear Old Dad had been a talker the eons before that. He’d quieted off since Mum and the great flood and the banishment as far as Lucifer had gathered from his brother.

 

He was angry. At everything really.

 

At Rae Rae for keeping silent and avoiding him for so long, and then making things more complicated than they’d had to be with Ella last night. Then again, he was glad his sister had helped. She was the Angel of Death and quite the warrior in her own right. She could handle the gore of it. He wasn’t sure Ella could have, and he would have hated himself all the more for subjecting her to it. Still, it was a lot to dump on his human friend, and he was worried it was going to be too much in the end.

 

But he was mad at the detective for feeling everything toward him _but_ acceptance. While he had no right to hope for that---considering what he’d done and how much he still abhorred his monstrous side---he’d believed, deep down, that the detective could do better. She’d made promises before Pierce, brushed his truth of as just that--- _his truth_ , but still sworn he wasn’t a monster to her. Things were better since Kinley, even since the cold admission on his side that he’d paralyzed a man. That he’d _wanted_ to punish a human that brutally and had. But it was still hopelessly broken. She’d helped him through the masquerade, but he’d seen her tears, the way she’d gasped at him…the way she’d held back even after he was himself again. And now the mother henning.

 

The detective might mean the best for him and Charlie, especially, and Lucifer could hardly argue with that, _hadn’t_ in point of fact. It still kept him effectively on a short leash and ruled by ultimatum, and he resented that.

 

Anger at Father was a constant, dull ache in his chest, something he’d felt almost as long as he could remember. Not at the beginning, but soon after, and that ire had burned into something disastrous, not just for him but the siblings who’d followed along with him. But now that frustration was tied up with all the things Dad did because he could, that attitude that nothing needed to be explained, just everything heeded by blind obedience.

 

He eyed the sky above him and spoke again, “I hope You’re amused. All the things your children suffer because you either didn’t plan it out enough or you can’t be arsed to explain it. How is any of it fair? Amenadiel was a pillock for trying to kill me and screwing with Malcolm. Won’t say that he wasn’t, but maybe some reason why his wings rotted off would have been fair. Warning on my own feathery burden too. A bit of heads’ up, yeah? Or, come on, what could Azrael have done to have less than even _human_ vision?”

 

Lucifer balled his hand up in a fist and slammed it hard against the sand, creating a divot beneath him. “It’s all about games with you. Self-actualization to fuel humans’ Hell and whatever goes on with the few of us who spend too much time with them, right? Cast your lot but suffer the consequences. When aren’t there any of those bloody, overrated things?”

 

Like always, his Father didn’t answer.

 

Maybe he never would again. Wouldn’t change much if the silence stayed like that.

 

Lucifer stood up and brushed the sand from his legs. “I’ll sort my own stuff out. Always do. Still utter bollocks to have this over your so-called favored angels’ heads. Utter rot to have it be something Charlie might deal with.”

 

He clenched his jaw and stalked to his car. It was the most he’d spoken to his Father since he’d been shot. Far be it from him to do it more than he absolutely had to. Lucifer certainly planned not to do it again, no matter what his subconscious did to him.

 

Father had made it quite clear since the Fall where he stood in the deity’s eyes.

 

And yet again, that animosity burned in him, scorching in his veins. That ire aimed at himself most of all because his damn epiphany had made his life much clearer and that much more complex at the same time. He’d run from hating himself for millennia, thrown himself into holidays and every type of feast, art, or sexual act to dull the voices in his head. To try and hide from himself how poisonous and rotten he was.

 

But he couldn’t run from it now, and maybe all of it had been a mistake, even flirting with the idea of working with the LAPD. The therapy and trying to figure out why he was changing. Attempting to have a life above ground with friends and…

 

With the detective.

 

It had all imploded spectacularly, hadn’t it?

 

Wrenching the corvette’s door open and gritting his teeth as the metal shrieked---right, best not to take his anger out on what he owned---Lucifer hopped in his car and headed back to his penthouse. Maybe a bit or, alright, a lot of liquor and some time at the piano would soothe his frayed nerves.

 

Couldn’t hurt.

 

He found getting pissed was usually an improvement.

**

 

Ella arched an eyebrow at him as she slid into the booth at the diner. That was something she’d never thought Lucifer would have. It was almost easier to digest that he was literally the King of Hell than that he’d go for dive food at an all-night eatery near Laguna. It was cute and the onions frying on the griddle to go with the huge, sloppy burgers smelled amazing, but it was far from five-stars.

 

And Lucifer was picky if anything.

 

She couldn’t help but laugh, despite feeling sympathy (heh) for him and his whole tail debacle. She also hadn’t expected to see him at _The Shiny Diner_ in a pair of black sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

 

Ella slid into the overstuffed red vinyl booth and forced her chuckles away. “Slumming it?”

 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “My new suits---too slim fit for what’s left of the tail stub, don’t ask…” She wouldn’t. “are not ready till Saturday. This is what I have.” He sat up straighter and eyed the nearest waiter who quite obviously licked his lips in Lucifer’s direction. “I’ve still got it however.”

 

Ella rolled her eyes. “Of course, you do.” This she understood. This was the guy ego that she’d had to soothe more than once with her brothers, especially Jay. “And the diner?”

 

“Would you rather the Ritz for breakfast?”

 

“Dude, no. I just…”

 

He smirked. “This place does the best pancakes in the state. Trust me. After a bender, they’re the better than the hair of the dog, guaranteed.”

 

“Can you even get intoxicated?” She thought he might have had a shot; he must have cleared four handles that she could tell by the time she’d gotten back to him.

 

“I can get high or drunk if I partake in Celestial amounts, not just a toke. Hence, when Satan gets the munchies, he comes here,” he said, grinning at the waiter who was still eying Lucifer like he was prime rib. “I’ll have the four-stack of pecan pancakes with extra whipped cream and you don’t have any beer, do you?”

  
The waiter winked, and Ella did have to admit he had cute dimples. “Serve anything and everything all day.”

 

“Splendid, then whatever your darkest lager would be. I can’t bear to try less than top shelf liquor. It’s a crime against nature, and people say I’m evil.”

 

As many people did and as she had till two days ago, the waiter shrugged off Lucifer’s comment and turned to her. “Miss?”

 

“I’ll have two fried eggs over easy and some sausage link. Huge glass of O.J. too.”

 

“Good choice,” he said, taking their menus and hurrying away but not before giving Lucifer one more look over.

 

“Does it ever get old?” she asked, drumming her fingers on the Formica of the table.

 

“The flirting? Not completely. I can’t help if I’m like walking heroin for most. Very habit forming.” The smirk he regarded her with was easy and practiced. Clearly, her friend had regained some of his equilibrium since Wednesday. The scared vulnerability was out of his eyes, and Ella wasn’t sure if she preferred the front Lucifer clung to or the honest version. It was easier to deal with the façade. It felt like dealing with his raw, honest self came with too many landmines. “Some resist.”

 

“Again, gross…well not gross-gross but like my brother and just nope.”

 

He beamed at that even if out of context she figured it must have sounded insulting. “I’m alright with that. It has been a long time since I’ve been fraternal with anyone but Amenadiel, but that’s still a recent development even for us.”

 

Ella kept the smile on her face. While she hadn’t slept well the last two nights, all the worry about her immortal soul tended to be nightmare fuel, she wanted to make this talk as easy as possible. After all, there was so much she didn’t understand but _needed_ to know. And, awkward as it was, she also had a favor to ask of Lucifer.

 

Despite reneging on part of her deal with trying to help him.

 

_Great Ella, put a ton on him, why don’t you?_

 

“I can’t…we need to talk like a lot.”

 

He nodded and folded his fingers in front of him on the table. “I understand. I can and will answer what you ask as best as I can. I can’t…I don’t want to talk about everything yet. The Rebellion I try not to think about, and I’m not ready to talk about it. I just can’t.”

 

She nodded. Honestly, Ella had gathered that. If her friend hated himself to mutilate his body on repeat, then pressing his sorest point a.k.a. The Fall couldn’t be a good idea. Besides, she was more worried confused about the other things, like his devil side and how the Hell she’d been befriended by the Angel of Death.

 

You know, the little things.

 

“Cool, I get that. Like I said before…”

 

“Catechism,” Lucifer finished. “Well, at least you have more of a basis in the Bible, even if it’s not completely accurate. Winners writing their side of history down and all that.”

 

“Well, there’s lots of time for the twenty questions. I am super curious about the Job thing.”

  
“Not much to tell. Dad’s an ass.”

 

She arched an eyebrow. “So the bet wasn’t your idea?”

 

“Assuredly no. I shot my mouth off one of the few times we did speak about how humans only love Dad when he’s good to them, and He came up with the idea of torturing Job himself. Honestly, considering how Hell works and how insidious it is, not surprised.”

 

“He set it up?”

 

“Oh yes, to punish me and you humans as well.” He quieted as the food was set down in front of them. Then, picking up his utensils dug into the stack ferociously. “Basically, it’s been set up as a place where a human’s own guilt is set up to torture them on a loop. Like being trapped in your worst nightmare, and you could escape, but no one ever actually does. The demons like Maze and I are mostly there for extra attention.”  


“For Hitler?”

 

“For humans where guilt is not sufficient.” He shrugged and chewed thoughtfully for a bit. “I don’t…it was not my idea to become a torturer.”

 

“Have you killed people?”

 

“Humans are dead when they get there, so until Pierce and I fought and he lost, no.”  


Ella wasn’t surprised. The feathers had to have come from somewhere and angel wings made more sense than any other theory she’d entertained before. Besides, if anyone had earned it… “I wish I’d been there. I’d have killed him myself.”

 

Lucifer set his fork and knife down and drained his drink in several, long gulps. “You wouldn’t have though, _hermanita_. I can tell. You’d talk a good game, and we all loved Charlotte dearly, but you’re not like that. I mean it when I say that you not going to church any longer is my Father’s loss.”

 

She bit into her sausage even though it felt too rubbery in her mouth. Her appetite evaporating with Lucifer’s praise. “I don’t know how good I am. Don’t take this personally…”

 

Lucifer slunk down in his seat and pouted as easily as if he were Trixie’s age. “Sentences that start like that never end well.”  


Ella sighed and sipped her juice before continuing. Man was she parched all of a sudden. “The Angel of Death and the Devil both really like me. I’m not a hundred percent sure how to feel about that.”

 

“Do you want Azrael and I to leave you be. It would pain both of us to do so, but we can.”

 

She rolled her eyes and slapped at his forearm. “Don’t be so melodramatic. I don’t mean I want you to go. I just mean that, well, neither of you seem evil at all.”

 

“Azrael’s not. She’s just on assignment. She doesn’t kill the humans, just takes them where they’re bound to go.”  


“Oh.”

 

“And sometimes mistakes are made. You weren’t on her list when you were in that car accident.” He paused then, and Ella wondered if there was something else he wanted to say. “However, she didn’t cause the accident, itself.”

 

“You didn’t mention yourself.”

 

He sighed and pushed his half-finished plate away from him. “I don’t know what I am. I led a rebellion that got my siblings killed, tortured humans for millennia, and then I came to Earth on vacation to do every debauched thing you can think of and some you can’t.”

 

“Sex isn’t evil.”

 

“How very progressive of you.” He smirked. “Did have quite the time in Salem and around Puritan America. Those pilgrims were the bloody worst about self-denial.”

 

“Ha!”

 

He shrugged and ran one, long finger over the label of his beer. “But I liked being a full consultant for the LAPD. I spent my whole life arguing that Dad and history and humans had it wrong, and I’m not so bad. But lately, I don’t really know.” His voice was so very quiet then if she hadn’t been leaning forward, Ella might have missed that last part.

 

Smiling as best she could, she squeezed his free hand. “I think you’re pretty good. Immature, sure, but good definitely.”

 

He started to yank his hand back, but she held it firmly enough to discourage him. When he spoke, he had a scowl etched across his face. Made him look younger somehow. “You and the detective…Linda too…I think you expect more of me than I can live up to. I hate that. Because the last thing I’d like would be to disappoint you, but I can’t seem to bloody well avoid doing it.”

 

“And that’s part of why Chloe has you benched?”

 

“Mostly because I tend to grow a tail among other things,” he grumbled, pulling his hand back finally. “But, no Ella. You came my way only because Azrael maneuvered it. She only did that because she cared about you first because, frankly, you’re very kind and one of the best humanity has to offer. The Angel of Death isn’t drawn to you because you’re an inveterate sinner or whatever other garbage something like the Catholic church would have you believe.”

 

“The church wasn’t always bad,” she said.

 

“Sorry, had a bit of a bad time with a rogue priest this year. I wasn’t quite the fan before. Fancy the whole organization even less now.”

 

“Oh,” she filed that away for something to ask about later. She also noted that if he was trying to still hide things from Chloe, then he at least might be talked into letting Linda know that _she_ knew. It would help to have another human in the Celestial inner circle to talk to, compare notes with. “So, I’m not bad?”

 

“Only as you’d like to be, Ella.” He smirked again, and she was sure that look had made half of Lux line up at the foot of his bed.

 

“I’ll have to think about that,” she admitted.

 

It was marginally a relief to know that somehow Rae Rae had just been drawn to an overly bouncy eight-year-old and Ella wasn’t some demon-to-be or heretic or God knew what. On the other hand, Lucifer was still one of the nicest people---once you got used to his biting sarcasm---that she’d ever met. She wasn’t sure how to ever think about worshipping a God again who made his kids suffer. Wasn’t like Rae Rae seemed very happy being the Angel of Death either. Had God even asked the angels what they wanted to do or just barked out orders?

 

“Other high points you’d like to hit. Maybe I should have Linda make a powerpoint. It seems like the kind of thing she’d be good at.”

 

“Can I talk to her?”

 

“Only if you don’t mention my tail problem. I don’t…the last thing I need is to trouble a family dealing with the first ever Nephilim.”

 

“So that part of the Bible?”

 

“Not true till now. Amenadiel was more shocked than anyone, believe me.”

 

Ella relaxed a little, talking to Linda even if she’d promised not to talk about Lucifer’s body issues---literal ones, like some real Cronenberg shit---would help. She still thought he’d do better to work with Maze, Amenadiel, and Linda too. The more heads the better on this, but she couldn’t override his stubbornness.

 

Who could?

 

“Okay, I…one more thing,” she said, waiting a beat as the waiter set down the ticket. She reached over, but Lucifer was faster. “I could cover it!”

 

“Yes, it’s hardly bank breaking, but I’d like to do it.” His eyes were soft and gentle as he regarded her. “I needed help and you offered. You’re still offering, and I never should have misled you about the tools I needed or asked for something so…amputation was a sight too far, _cariña._ ”

 

“No more compartmentalizing. I’ll work with you and Rae Rae if she’s around on this.”  


“She promised she would be,” he said, but his tone wavered a little.

 

Ella had no idea what the history with those two was exactly, but if they’d gone over six thousand years without checking in with each other, it was probably a strained relationship at best. “Good cause she has so much ‘splaining to do for me. I…my family still thinks I’m crazy.”

 

“You assuredly are not,” he replied. Then, he patted her hand. “I am sorry. Azrael…she can be very impulsive.”

 

“Wonder where she gets that from.”

 

“Mum probably and, yes, I see the slight. I never said I was patient either. She knew the rules and had no right to put so much on an eight-year-old. Selfishly, I’m glad she did.”

 

Ella swallowed hard as the warmth of his palm seeped into her skin. “I can understand that, and I mostly am. I wouldn’t be in L.A. either, wouldn’t have made all the friends I have, you included.” She sighed and pulled her hand away. Resettling her ponytail, she continued. “I still hate that everyone in Detroit thinks I’m schizophrenic.” She blinked rapidly to avoid tearing up. “I know it wouldn’t have helped any if she’d told me she was an angel. My parents still would have thought I was totally _loca_.”

 

“I am so very sorry, Ella.”

 

“But okay, I’m not secretly evil. You two aren’t evil---again, like no offense.”

 

“Trying not to take any,” he said tightly, pulling out his wallet.

 

“And you want this problem on the hush-hush.”

 

“Yes, next time Sis has a break in her schedule, I assume the three of us can meet up. She suggested raiding the library and archives of the Silver City and, honestly, it’s as good an idea as any. I don’t expect to get answers, but I don’t know where else to start either.”

 

Ella’s eyes widened. “Like Heaven?”

 

“Yes.”  


“You can bring books from Heaven?”

 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “ _I_ cannot. I’ve been thrown out of there until beyond the end of time. Azrael can, and whatever she brings you couldn’t personally read, unless you’re fluent in written Enochian.”

 

“No, just Klingon and Elvish.”

 

He chuckled at that. “A woman of many talents. Maybe you and Azrael can work on whatever she may find together.”

 

“Maybe,” Ella didn’t commit too far on that. She still had a lot of things to shout at Rae Rae before they were copasetic…if they even could be that.

 

“So, anything else for today? I know it’s so very much to have dumped on you. Humans don’t deal well with the divine. Honestly, you’re taking this like quite the champ.”

 

She blushed. “I…look, I know Chloe won’t let you work on her cases.”

 

“Nope, and it was hard to argue when she pulled the ‘Charlie Card.’”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I don’t give a toss what a human thinks of me. Doesn’t bother, and, frankly, not like you lot can hurt me.”

 

“Right.”  


“But I don’t want anything connecting my devilishness to Charlie’s own semi-angelhood. I agree that being careful for now makes sense but only for his sake.”

 

She deflated at that. “Oh.”

 

He finished signing the ticket and focused more closely on her. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

 

“Dan has a case.”  


“Well, I’d surely risk my nephew’s safety for Detective Douche.”

Ella swallowed hard. Lucifer had to have figured out for himself exactly why Ponyboy had shown up at the penthouse by now, hadn’t he? She wasn’t sure what to do. No one knew she knew, outside of Internal Affairs, and if Lucifer were mad at Dan---and that was totally earned---but if he were, then Colin Whitmore would suffer for it as would his family. The real killed deserved to be found, and their case was languishing.

 

“There’s a case anyway. It’s this prep school murder out in Beverly Hills. A hazing on the football team gone wrong but no one’s saying anything, and forensics isn’t helping cause they’re all minors with no records and tons of lawyers.”

 

He leaned back in his booth, all cool and collected. “I see.”

 

“I wouldn’t ask except he was sixteen, Luce. He was just a kid and the other kids who hurt him are going to get away with it. Maybe hurt some other kid with a different hazing prank when this dies down in a couple of years.”

 

He sighed. “You know, I think becoming an uncle, and no one asked if I wanted that by the way.”

 

She giggled. “I’m sure Linda and Amenadiel should have thought more about your feelings.”

 

“Damn right. Anyway, it may have softened me a bit too much.” He tapped his fingers on the table’s surface. “We don’t have children in Hell.”

 

“You don’t?”

 

“No, Dad is generally a wanker, but he doesn’t send minors anywhere but the Silver City. I couldn’t…even if He’d forced that rule, I would have locked the gates. They’re innocent, well, mostly.”

 

“So, you’ll help?”

 

“If you can figure out a way for me to go around the detective’s nose, and we—you, me and Azrael---work on my control or bloody lack thereof, yes. Do you have a plan, Ella?”

 

She beamed back at him, lighting up as if she’d won the lottery. “You bet I do. Puh-leaze, would I be a Vegas mastermind if I didn’t?”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linda welcomes Ella to Team Celestial, alas there's no gift basket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple notes:
> 
> 1) Since this verged AU during 4.09, there was no big confrontation with demons. In this universe, Kinley was simply extradited back to Rome for trial and Eve's song at Lux was for Maze after all and they've been a committed couple working as bounty hunters ever since
> 
> 2) While Amenadiel is still conflicted over raising Charlie on Earth. Here, he's taken the approach of so far letting Charlie grow up on Earth but really being overprotective and not wanting to let Charlie out of his sight at any time. But, for right now, he is thinking about the "Silver City Plan" but hasn't committed to it.
> 
> 3) This is a Chloe-light fic, and that's purposely. It's not because I don't like Chloe or Deckerstar (I like both very much, especially after s4 and Lauren German being so amazing). It's just that I have a separate idea for a very Deckerstar-centric Devil!Bod/Post 4.09 angsty, long fic, so I'm saving a lot of ideas in that vein for that time! And, yes, it'll be the next WIP I start after this one is done. As, while I like to do one-shots once in a while for bingo...etc., I like to only do one WIP at a time.

**Chapter Nine**

_Can we grab a drink? Alone?_

Even if Ella hadn’t concluded her quick text with a smiling, purple devil face emoji, Linda would have known that the jig was up, and Lucifer had told her. Or Maze. Neither had exactly been discreet with who they were, but since she and Ella, while friends, only hung out as a group on “tribe nights” and only communicated through the text chain and not one-on-one, it was obvious the kind of situation Linda was walking into.

 

Her money was on Lucifer showing her something. Whether that was because he was still having devil body issues or because with Eve moved out and his relationship with the detective so delicately balanced, he’d been desperate enough to reach out to the forensic scientist with proof, Linda couldn’t quite say. Frankly, since a family dinner---and, no, about three years ago when Lucifer had wandered into her office and she’d blurted about hot yoga she had _not_ seen that coming---about two weeks ago, she hadn’t heard from him. While Amenadiel thought it was kind of his brother not to _burden_ her during her six-week maternity leave, Linda was worried. The way he’d been so final about his therapy when he’d gifted her the priceless Freud journal and his hesitance to stay more to glib talk of Lux or, well, the Lucifer-standard sex puns during dinner…she knew his avoidance tactics by now.

 

So, it was with all these thoughts swimming in her head that she straightened her purse strap, held her head high (well as high as a five-foot nothing woman could), and walked into the burger joint a few blocks from the precinct. She found Ella easily among the patrons. The other woman was wearing a sky-blue t-shirt with a unicorn on it and waved eagerly from her booth.

 

Ella stood once she reached the table and gave her one of those famous, eager Lopez hugs. She gave them more frequently during tribe nights. Not that Ella was shy to hug. At all, but if you got enough Patron in her, Ella would hug you every ten minutes like an over eager sorority girl. It was endearing. Linda parted and sat down on her side, grateful a water was already waiting. She wasn’t exactly hungry. She’d had a huge breakfast prepared for her by Amenadiel before he’d taken Charlie to the park for the morning, but she did feel suddenly parched, as if her mouth were lined with sandpaper.

 

“Ella, hey, this was unexpected,” Linda said, trying to keep her tone neutral. On the off chance Ella wasn’t finally a Celestial insider, Linda didn’t want to be the reason she stumbled onto everything. “What’s up?”

 

Ella bit her lower lip and sipped a milkshake that was massive, half whipped cream, and over the top for nine a.m. “Lucifer said I could talk to you about _everything_.” The other woman raised her eyebrows for emphasis and stretched the final word of her sentence out to more syllables than it actually was. Then she looked over her shoulder as if they were in a Tom Clancy novel and lowered her voice a bit. “Devil stuff? Heaven stuff…all of it.”

 

Linda nodded and sipped her water. On some level, as she liked Ella very much and the other woman, while she was struggling with her faith seemed an obvious choice to eventually bring into the fold, Linda was relieved to have the forensic scientist in the know. It would make “tribe nights,” which had been fewer and far between since her baby shower and more strained due to tension between Maze and Chloe, easier than they had been. On another level, since everything about Lucifer now meant everything about her son and his life by proxy, Linda felt a small clench of pressure over her chest. Ella was a friend and safe, but it was all a lot.

 

It had been a lot since Lucifer had shown her his face years ago, and she kept rolling with it.

 

If she hadn’t been all in with being almost killed by the Goddess of all Creation, she certainly had been the moment her GP had informed her she was pregnant. With a still very likely angel baby, even if Charlie seemed perfectly human so far. Not even a feather.

 

“You do. How do you know?” she asked. “I mean, not to play twenty questions, but Lucifer and Maze tend to chat _a lot_ about being from Hell. How did you find out-out?”

 

Ella frowned and sipped her milkshake. “He showed me.”

 

Linda’s eyes widened. “How long ago?”

 

She finished slurping her shake and spoke again. “The days kind of blur together. I think it was three days ago. It’s still Saturday, isn’t it?”

 

Linda let out an appreciative whistle. It had taken her more than seventy-two hours to escape most of her shock. She’d canceled appointments for a week and claimed a death in the family to just try and deal with her zombie-days due to terrifying nightmares plaguing her, ones filled with Lucifer’s true face and eyes that burned like Hell fire. It had taken a week beyond that and Maze’s determined prodding before she’d been able to start speaking with either of them. If she were honest with herself, it had taken her probably three weeks from start to finish before she’d been able to be any kind of therapist again. But, seriously, she really had wanted to make sure her terrible, deadbeat of an uncle was in Hell.

 

How could you have the Devil on your sofa and not ask about that? Or Hitler? Everyone wanted to know about Hitler, she was sure.

 

But Ella seemed remarkably composed for a woman who’d seen Lucifer’s real face, even if she’d already been religious to begin with, more or less. Maybe even despite that. Linda knew for a fact it was terrifying and that it had driven lesser people mad---Lucifer hadn’t confessed such things, but she’d heard Maze brag about it before. Its revelation had driven Chloe to another continent.

 

No, scratch everything.

 

Ella was taking it too well.

 

“Did he show you his wings?”

 

Ella blinked and her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh. What?”

 

Not that those would be any less terrifying these days. She wasn’t sure if him processing his “I hate myself epiphany” enough to make his devil hand go away meant his wings were snowy white again, but she suspected they were still traditionally devilish and bat-like. He wouldn’t be avoiding her so deliberately if everything were as normal (well for him) as he claimed.

 

Linda frowned. “White, feathery angel wings?” She shrugged. “Actually, it’s a little funny if you think about it. Normally, Lucifer’s wings are white as snow. I don’t know much about the other angels, haven’t met them, but Amenadiel’s are far darker. He mentioned once that white ones were fairly rare.”

 

Ella frowned. “Huh, I guess I figured every, single one would have the big, snowy white wings. It seems to go with a lot of the image.”

 

“I guess _Precious Moments_ figurines got it wrong,” Linda offered. “You haven’t seen his wings.”

 

“No, I honestly didn’t know he still had any. The Fall and all that, right?”

 

Linda nodded. That was all she needed to confirm that even if Lucifer wasn’t having huge problems controlling his body currently, then he was still dealing with the wrong kind of wings. He’d definitely have shown Ella otherwise. It was a safer, saner way to offer proof without his returned face.

 

“But no, uh,” Ella hesitated. “Just, you know, proof.”  


She frowned, still trying to parse out what Ella wasn’t saying. It was her full-time job, and, while she wasn’t a detective like a couple of people in her inner circle, Linda still knew exactly when people were trying to skate the truth with her. “His face or just his eyes?”

 

Ella nodded so hard her that her ponytail bounced behind her head. “The eyes. That. Totally a big deal. Anyway, I am totally on Team Devil or whatever.”

 

The answer made sense, considering Ella wasn’t still a recovering, gibbering mess, but something still felt off. She’d have to corner Lucifer on Sunday and get him to commit to a return to therapy soon. She’d be done maternity leave in a week anyway. She wasn’t buying exactly how Ella knew, and it was worrying her.

 

“Celestial,” Linda corrected, offering a tight smile.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Well, granted, half the ‘team’ is a demon and The Devil, but the other half are an archangel and a Nephilim. Then again, Charlie seems pretty average. Since there’s never been an angel-baby before, we’re not really sure if he’ll get Amenadiel’s abilities or not.”

 

“Wait, I’m pretty sure in the Bible there are angels, uh, you know…” Ella blushed, and Linda appreciated her not putting such a fine point on the sex with humans part. Her life was so very weird. Not a bad weird, but just bizarre. “Well, they’re definitely in the Bible so I figured that Charlie wasn’t the first.”

 

“Trust me, I did so much Google searching and went to a few different libraries around the area, including UCLA for Biblical texts when Amenadiel dropped the whole ‘this has never happened before in angel history either’ bomb. Apparently, fun fact, angels were all just fully formed. So it’s not like Lucifer or Amenadiel had childhoods.”

 

Ella rolled her eyes. “That actually explains a lot. They’re, uh, a bit immature or naïve.”

 

“Considering they’re technically billions of years old, immature seems kind.” Linda said, laughing.

 

It wasn’t that Amenadiel wasn’t knowledgeable about many things like history, the Bible, or how to fight. He and Maze often got into playful arguments about which weaponry was best for a certain task---and she was going to have to get them both to clamp down on knife talk when Charlie understood words more---but when it came to humans behavior or rules…for an immortal being, Amenadiel seemed if not clueless, than guileless. He wanted so badly after finally getting to know humanity to see the best in everyone. After Caleb’s death…he’d shut down some and thrown himself into hovering over Charlie 24/7.   


“True, but so wow. Okay, catching up. Team Celestial and Charlie’s the first ahem ever. Wow.”

 

Linda nodded. “You won’t say anything, will you? I mean, Lucifer has never cared or Maze. Amenadiel gets it now, but the three of them are so very strong, nearly invulnerable.”

 

Ella seemed to pale at that. “I know.”

 

Curious. “But Charlie’s completely normal, like any other five-week old infant. I don’t want…I’m trying to keep him safe, even if he doesn’t have any powers that we can tell yet.”

 

“So no baby wings?”

 

“God, no. Oh wow, there it goes again,” Linda admitted, her voice a bit more tight than she’d have liked. It would hit her in moments like this, sometimes with the simplest turns of phrase that her son’s grandfather was God. The God. The one with a capital “G,” whom she’d never believed in but now was quite sure was one of the worst, most abusive fathers in history. The less so-called Grandpa knew or did with Charlie, the better.

 

“What?”

 

“I just remember that Charlie’s grandfather is literally God. Phew, it’s a lot, Ella, let me tell you. I love Charlie more than anything, and Lucifer and Maze are some of my best friends. Which, okay, ethically wonky with Lucifer, but this is beyond a special case so it is what it is.”

 

“What about Amenadiel?”

 

She smiled at Ella’s quiet yet patient tone. Maybe it was how she talked to victims at a crime scene. It was reassuring and nothing but kindly, genuinely interested. “I would be lucky to one day be more than just a co-parent with Amenadiel. I…he proposed when I first found out about Charlie, but it wasn’t the right time at all, and I didn’t want us to be together because he thought we had to be, like another task to complete. I know Maze was upset about us as an item at first, but she has Eve now. They’re even bounty hunting together now, out in North Dakota on assignment.”

 

Ella smiled at that. “Maze is lucky. Eve’s a great kisser!”

 

Linda arched and eyebrow and then laughed. “For at least one actual angel in the mix, I think our group is too incestuous sometimes.”

 

“Maybe, but would you?”

 

She nodded and let her fingers stroke the thin, silver chain of her necklace. Amenadiel had given it to her when Charlie had been born. A thank you gift for something she’d be glad to do a million times over because Charlie was, hands down, the best thing that had ever happened to her, especially at her age and thinking she’d wasted that chance waiting for Reese to grow up. It was nothing special, just a small owl on the end of the chain with tiny, diamond chips for eyes. He’d told her that since she was so wise, the bird fit her well.

 

She wished she felt half as smart as her wayward angels thought she was.

 

“If we ever figured our own mess out, in a heartbeat, but it’s very complicated.” _And he’s shut down a lot lately too_. “Right now, we have a good, healthy balance for Charlie, and that’s the most I can hope for.” She finished her glass and leaned back in the booth. “Now, I don’t have like swag to hand out to you as a welcome to the team. There should be hazard pay, but there’s not. It’s thankless, but they’re most of the time worth it.”

 

_Maybe not when I’m supposed to defibrillate them to death or having their mom flash fry me, but it’s mostly pretty good._

 

Ella bit her lower lip and her nails clicked on the frosty glass of her milkshake. “I’m worried about Lucifer.”

 

And there it was. Linda had been right. He was definitely avoiding her in a frantic effort to hide whatever was really going on with him. Like he really assumed she’d be so distracted on maternity leave she wouldn’t notice the signs. Lucifer might be a master of denial---it had taken him three years to figure out his own deepest problem was rooted in self-hatred, something she’d known and been easing him toward since he put a fist through her wall---but he was far from adept at hiding his true feelings from anyone. The insouciant mask had never been all that convincing.

 

“What’s actually going on, Ella. I’m his doctor, you can tell me.”

 

“And I’m his best friend,” she replied, tone sure. “He made me promise not to say much about certain things, but I’m trying to, you know, say things without saying them?”

 

“Meaning?”

 

“I just think he’s not doing well. Chloe benched him at work; she won’t let him do more than paperwork and he’s miserable. Lux is only running on Thursdays to Saturdays and during night hours only. I’m sure it’s in the red doing it. He barely does anything that’s not come to the station to do the paperwork---without even complaining!---and then goes home to Lux in the quiet, as far as I know. Like I get now that he and Chloe are having a bad time about everything cause, like, she knows and I guess it didn’t go well, right?”

 

Linda wasn’t sure if Ella knew about Chloe’s betrayal or not, but she was erring on the side of caution there. To say “things weren’t going well between Chloe and Lucifer” was one of the biggest understatements of all time. Running, even temporarily in her initial shock, to the Vatican had been a huge mistake. And a betrayal she wasn’t sure Lucifer would ever stop nursing.

 

“They’re having a lot of trust issues, and I think we both can relate as to why.” She frowned. “Wait, he actually focuses on the paperwork part?”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t say focus completely, sometimes he origami folds forms, which he’s super good at by the way.” She shook her head, “But he’s quiet and withdrawn. He’s been spending a lot of evenings just chilling in my lab letting me drone on about spectrometry and DNA testing, etc. It’s not him. Like at all. I mean, I love he’s been so attentive, but I’m not _that_ interesting. He should be orgy deep in Lux stuff by now, and he’s just…not.”

 

She reviewed all that Ella was telling her now, all that Ella had carefully not said, and tucked it away in her mind along with Lucifer’s refusal to see her professionally---maternity leave be damned---and Ella’s evasiveness over exactly _how_ Lucifer had proven he was the Devil to her. So much was afoot, and none of it good.

 

Reaching over, she squeezed Ella’s hand. “Thank you. I know Lucifer has probably sworn you to secrecy on some things, and I respect you have different boundaries with him as a friend than I do as, well, family now. I get that, and after everything he’s been through this year, he needs to know he can trust some humans completely. But if you’ve noticed all these changes at work and at Lux…I needed to know them. He needs to address whatever is eating at him.”

 

Ella nodded and let out a sigh of relief. “It’s just weird, you know? Lucifer’s so sad, and I’ve seen him that way before. When Chloe was gone or when they had this almost date at his penthouse but then were so chilly to each other for a long time…but he’s really down, and I don’t know how to help him on my own.”

 

“I’m not sure I can completely either. Honestly, some of this is about how Lucifer chooses to help himself and what he chooses to accept or not.”

 

“I think Chloe benching him is really messing him up.”

 

Linda nodded but skirted the issue. “I think if his head hasn’t quite been in the game lately, that having him on a more restrictive form of duty is a safer choice for him. I can understand Chloe’s logic completely, but I also understand that will feel like total rejection to him. Again, thank you for letting me know. Honestly, neither Amenadiel nor I did.”

 

“New baby haze. I totally get it. My brother Diego like never slept with my first nephew. He was always doing that thing where you go to the grocery store for supplies but end up putting the freezer food in a corner and accidentally find melted ice cream the next day cause you were too tired to put it in a fridge.” She smiled brightly again, and patted Linda’s hand. “We got this. I mean, we do got this, right?”

 

Linda laughed. “We can try, and I’ll feel better with Maze at least back from North Dakota. Eve…things are too raw there for her to help, and I don’t blame her. But, yeah, surprise. With angels or, uh, close enough in Lucifer’s case, you get a lot of emotional lability… _vulnerability_. Kind of the weird price for being outside indestructible maybe. I don’t know.”

 

“So,” Ella said, grabbing her purse and preparing to leave. “You sure we can’t get at least team shirts?”

 

“Forget shirts. They owe us tropical vacations. With cabana boys!”

 

“Or girls,” Ella said, grinning. “Grass skirts optional.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Linda talks with Amenadiel, and later Azrael gets an invitation.

**Chapter Ten**

“And how was my little guy at the park?” Linda asked, taking Charlie from Amenadiel’s arms. Her son was sleeping and barely stirred as he was transferred into her arms. She patted his back and walked back and forth across the nursery floor. She’d been tidying up there while waiting for her boys. It helped diffuse nervous energy, especially with Eve and Maze traveling. “Did he have a good time?”

 

Amenadiel nodded. “He loves sitting in the stroller and just soaking up the sunlight. He babbled a little and then napped.”

 

She nodded and set Charlie down in his crib. “I’m glad you both had a good morning. I can see you’ll be spending so much time at Gymboree or just doing sports things when he’s big enough.”

 

“Gymboree?” Amenadiel asked.

 

She shrugged. In this case, he and she were equally clueless about baby things. She’d heard the ins and outs of juggling an, ahem, inhuman amount of extracurricular activities from her clients. Who knew three year olds would do tap, ballet, singing lessons, and yoga classes to get them to the level for acting lessons? Actually, probably Chloe had been overscheduled like that from what she’d gleaned about the other woman’s mother at tribe nights. However, Linda personally wasn’t familiar with like Tumble Tots or youth soccer or all those things. She and Amenadiel would be figuring out all that juggling eventually.

 

“I think it’s like a baby gym class or more like toddlers. They do tumbling on matts? Sing songs?”

 

“Are you asking or telling me, Linda?”

 

“Both,” she said, winking at him and leaning against the wall. “But it was fun?”

 

“Of course, there is nothing in the Silver City, I promise you, that compares to a day at the park with Charlie. Human parents…they have no idea how lucky they are.”

 

“Even with the diapers?” she joked, although it warmed her heart to hear that from Amenadiel, not that she thought he’d ever leave. Clearly Amenadiel and Auntie Maze would be around to defend Charlie to the end of time, but when he was so happy about it, it made Linda feel good. She still worried he saw them as a duty more than a family. He was just so inscrutable sometimes. “Have you given more thought to a play group?”

 

Amenadiel’s bright smile fell and his expression shuttered. “He’s still a little young, and we don’t know how angelic he is. I wouldn’t want him…if he’s just normal…to pick up tons of colds from other kids. He’s so little.”

 

“I know but the local moms, um, parents and children playgroup in Beverly Hills has a year waitlist and by then Charlie would be big enough, had enough colds, and it would be a way to get him out of the house before preschool. Oh, we need to start figuring out which one so we can interview him.”

 

“He’s not even six weeks old!”

 

“Waitlists, I’ve been researching all the schools around here and---”

 

Amenadiel sighed. “I am not sure about a playgroup yet.”

  
“Because he might have powers some day?”

 

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Humans can be so cruel to each other, to anyone who’s different.”

 

She sighed and set a hand on his forearm. Her career was basically about trying to untangle a lot of early trauma her patients had gone through and, yeah, some of that definitely came from bullying or best friend betrayals or just generally _high school_. Lucifer had said once that high school reunions were a popular motif in Hell, and she was hardly surprised.

 

“And Charlie has a lot of challenges.” In this world, and after Caleb’s death, sometimes Linda thought that Charlie’s possible Celestial gifts were the least of his problems. “But he can’t just live in a plastic bubble forever. Us and Maze and Eve, even hanging out with Trixie…he has to be with other kids sometimes. Besides,” she started, not sure how Amenadiel would take this next part. “I think that angels can be as cruel as men. Uriel both came here to kill people to hurt Lucifer.” She left out what Amenadiel had done via Malcolm as proxy. That felt like a lifetime ago. “Lucifer mentioned that he was bullied by the angels with flashier powers in the Silver City.”

 

A muscle in Amenadiel’s throat ticked. “I am not always proud of everything I’ve done. Sometimes, Gabriel and Michael and I got carried away with ourselves. God’s strongest warriors and it was easy to trample over our siblings with the quirkier powers like Uriel.” He sighed. “Gabriel and Michael were also pretty awful to Azrael too.”

 

She filed that away, not even surprised anymore after dealing with the universe’s first and most messed up family, that bullying happened even in the Silver City too. “Then, Charlie would have to deal with that anywhere, that chance. It’s what growing up is about. You can’t tell me in the Silver City, they’d be kind to a half-human child with so far no visible abilities.”

 

Amenadiel pursed his lips and breathed in deeply before he spoke. “He would live and they would protect and cherish him because it is what our family does. That’s more than sometimes I feel here, the types of risks. But playgroup waitlists and schools we can look into. I guess you wouldn’t go in for homeschooling.”

 

Linda laughed. “I get he’d do great at history, and, uh, P.E. if that included knife throwing with Auntie Maze, but I was hoping for maybe another doctor in the family someday. No pressure.”

 

“Aminidiel, M.D.” Her partner said. “I think I like that.” His posture eased and he reached over and kissed the top of her head. It was sweet but a safe distance between them, always respectful, Amenadiel. And always treating her with complete chasteness. The rules she’d set, but sometimes she wished their lives weren’t so chaotic. She’d love to try and be something _more_ again, but it wasn’t the time.

 

“Oh,” she said, trotting after his long strides---both Lucifer and Amenadiel were ridiculously tall; she hoped she didn’t stunt Charlie. “You might want to swing by the station later this week.”

 

“I’ve been trying to get Dan over his grieving phase all year. I suppose I could try enticing him with groundlings tickets again.”

 

“No, uh, well that’s very sweet,” she said. “However, I meant that I just came from breakfast with Ella. She knows.”

 

Amenadiel stopped and frowned down at her. He looked to the nursery and probably didn’t even realize he’d cut his focus there as well. “She does?”

 

“Lucifer showed her his eyes she said.”

 

“Did she?”

 

“Yeah, something feels wonky there, can’t quite put my finger on it. However, Ella definitely knows all about Team Celestial so maybe just seeing her later, letting her know that everything’s gonna be okay. I think that comes a little easier from an archangel that from Lucifer.”

 

“Does it?” Amenandiel asked, grinning a bit and standing taller.

 

Linda rolled her eyes and playfully slapped his shoulder. “Get over yourselves. I am not being a referee for a ‘which brother is better’ contest for the next forty years. You’re both great in your own way, but Lucifer isn’t exactly comforting sometimes.” She chuckled. “It’s the lack of filter. When dealing with all things heaven and hell sometimes a lighter, more sincere approach helps.”

 

He nodded and slung an arm over her shoulder. He had to twist down a little to do that. Linda Martin, M.D. and her giant angels.

 

“Well, I’ll make sure to see her soon then,” he replied. “Now let me make you lunch.”

**

 

Azrael hated her job. She’d always hated her job. When angels were assigned their tasks, it wasn’t like they’d gotten a choice. Michael, voice of the Presence. Amenadiel, heaven’s greatest soldier. Samael, Lightbringer and literally in charge of lighting the heavens. (And if he hadn’t rocked the damn boat so hard it went all _Titanic_ , he’d still be in charge of that. Okay, maybe she still had some Rebellion feels to work through.) Then, there was she; Azrael, angel in charge of ferrying dead humans to the gates of Heaven or Hell for processing.

 

It was a 24/7, 365 days a year job.

 

In fact, she had the ability to split her focus, to literally be at multiple places at once---even if it never seemed like enough---in order to make her job work. Humans died, like a lot. They were incredibly fragile. Also, fun fact, she collected so many from the bathroom after foolish accidents that those places should come with like a warning label.

 

But it meant that she was never really around anyone else. She could pop in once in a great while to the Silver City, but she was always working so rarely had time to bond with her siblings, not that most had ever really liked her. It also meant that while she’d meant to get back to Lu’s within a few hours, well, there’d been a massive earthquake in Santiago, Chile, and a freak hail storm in Mexico City, and then there was the arson in Paris…

 

It was very busy being the Angel of Death. She definitely didn’t have time to have a billion and one orgies like some (used to be) angels she could name.

 

So, it was with a huge lump in her throat, that she teleported back into his brother’s penthouse. He was at the piano playing something she couldn’t place---human music wasn’t really her thing except, okay, maybe a soft spot for grunge rock in the Bay Area and some hip hop cause of Ella’s own tastes as a teen---but Rae Rae was hopeless when it came to anything on the piano.

 

Overall, her brother seemed as composed as his usual. Hair coiffed, clearly intentionally shaven but just enough left over five o’clock stubble, and a new suit in plum. He eyed her when she arrived, but he didn’t say anything one way or the other. With Lucifer, if he wasn’t offering biting sarcasm, it was a sign that he was cool with you.

 

“Hey!” she said, retracting her wings and waving at him. “Humans don’t tend to have a break in dying. I’m sorry. I do have what I think might be a few hour break so we can totally chat on whatever you need.” She frowned and worried her bottom lip. “Lu, are you mad? I’d totally get it if you’re mad.”

 

He stood and sipped the end of his Scotch. Seriously, did her brother ever _not_ drink? “I understand, Azrael.”

 

“You do? Cause I know we just kind of, sort of, maybe made up some, and I don’t want you to think that I just flew off on Thursday and was thinking ‘oh tail problem solved’ cause I so didn’t, and I still think that the best idea is to raid the archives at the Silver City.”

 

He smirked back at her. “Would you like to take a breath?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

He set his drink down and strode over to her. Squeezing his shoulders, he kept smirking back at her. “Frankly, after far too much sibling togetherness, I needed a breather. Also,” he added, dropping his hands and spinning around like a runway model. “I needed a few days before my tailor…” _Oh, of course Lu had one or probably even a few on retainer._ “was able to fix me slightly less tight trousers. I wasn’t sure I wanted you to see me continue to slum it in sweatpants and t-shirts. How embarrassing.”

 

Rae Rae wanted to point out the red, fuzzy---seriously what the fuck---tail was probably more embarrassing, but he was offering an olive branch to their seriously messed up relationship, so she decided not to mention it. “Okay, but I’m really sorry. I just…I never get time much. I mean, if you asked Ella, I’d sometimes go months before popping in on her again. It wasn’t even some design or plan or whatever. I just get so busy.”

 

Her brother sighed and collected his jacket from off the top of his bar. “That I understand. Believe me, I don’t enjoy what Dad elected for me to do eventually either. You could go on holiday.”

 

“Vacation,” she chirped. “Still not actually British.”

 

“Accent suits, it stays. You’re not an American from the Valley either.”

 

“Okay, true,” she said. “But I can’t just take a vacation. You’re like Hell’s upper management. You have tons of demons who can run things and the rooms just really run themselves from now through eternity. I don’t collect souls then they wander the Earth and, hello, you ever see what happens to a human soul that can’t move on? Super gross, you don’t wanna know.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Maybe, uh, I tried that back in the old ‘begat’ days just the once. It’s not good. So, nope, I can grab a few hours of me time every once in a while, but as an angel, Lu, I’m overbooked.” She shrugged. “So, do you want me to pop up to the Silver City and grab the books or try? We can call Ella and make a Sunday of it. It is Sunday right?”

 

“Still wish you didn’t have to do everything Dad said just because…”

 

“Nuh-uh, those thoughts never lead anywhere good. I do my job because I don’t want humans to suffer. It’s kind of the inverse of you and Hell, even while you’re here, you know it’s running the way it should because you have Dromos or Squee or all those other idiots I meet at the gates to hand souls off to. You wouldn’t just leave if you didn’t know punishment was working. I can’t ever just stop cause humans don’t deserve to just wander the Earth totes confused and in pain. Dad made me do this---made me capable of it---but I do it cause it’s the right thing to do.” She shrugged and adjusted her glasses on her nose. “I don’t know if you ever understood that.”

 

“I just am sorry you never get a break. It has always isolated you from our siblings.”

 

She laughed. “You hate everyone but Amenadiel, and that’s a new thing!”

 

“Gits, pillocks, and blighters all. Not to mention sycophants. Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t like to see them more. Maybe Dad should have made more angels, at least split the hard jobs up.”

 

She couldn’t blame him there. Splitting duties up, including the running of Hell, might have been a good idea. “See, but I have a few hours now where I think nothing super huge is beckoning. Book time?”

 

“Assuredly not.”  


“Huh?”

 

“It’s family dinner at Linda and Amenadiel’s. I’d rather not get skinned alive by my therapist if I miss it. So, Sis, you coming along?”

 

“Wait, I’m so confused. I knew Amenadiel uh had a human kid since you like mentioned it last time. Why are you going to family dinner with your therapist?”

 

“He might have shagged my psychiatrist and more than once as I’ve heard Mazikeen tell it. Apparently, since he was mortal at the time---self-actualization of course---well, when a man and a woman love each other about nine months later they make a Nephilim. Come along now, Azrael. You can meet your nephew, Charlie.”

 

She nodded and hurried after him, the lump in her throat growing. She wasn’t sure that any human would be happy to have dinner with the Angel of Death. Maybe Linda wasn’t as up on catechism as Ella. That would be helpful.

 

As would being able to eat anything that wasn’t from a vending machine in between ferrying souls about.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an angel family dinner

**Chapter Eleven**

If Azrael had questions about why they suffered through the Los Angeles traffic to get from Lux to Beverly Hills, then she kept them to herself. She knew that he still had wings. He’d mentioned the blasted things still kept growing back to her, but he’d be damned (well moreso) if he were going to try pulling them out and let her see they were still bat-like and awful. So, while the both of them could have been at Linda’s in a blink with a few flaps, they didn’t arrive till an hour later.

 

Because everything in L.A., at minimum, was an hour from everything else. Traffic and all that.

 

Azrael picked the music in the car, something awful and garbled. Was it _Nirvana_? When had his sister developed a grunge rock phase? Although, considering her profession, it made more sense for her than bubble gum pop. Still, she was content not to speak much as they wound through the traffic.

 

When he pulled into Linda’s driveway, she finally turned to him, her eyes wide. “Wow, this is where Amenadiel lives?”

 

Lucifer quirked his lip up in a faint tease of a smile. “This is where Amenadiel crashes with his baby-mama, for lack of a better term. To be fair, it’s the good doctor who’s held out---though I don’t think it will be forever---the minute Amenadiel learned about Charlie coming, he bought a ring and proposed. Got shot down three times, way I heard it.”

 

His sister’s eyes widened. “Wow. Poor guy, that had to hurt.”

 

“He’s stubborn.”

 

“No, really. I never noticed that about my brothers,” Azrael teased.

 

“I’m not a humorless git like him.”

 

“But you get an idea in your head and never let it go. I mean, I can’t imagine the LAPD was like ‘Oh hi, Satan, will you solve our crimes for us and it’s cool if you sexually harass half the witneses.’”

 

“I wouldn’t say I ‘harass’ anyone. I can’t help if people find me irresistible.”

 

Azrael grinned back at him. “But I was right about the whole they didn’t just go ‘great idea’ thing, right?”

 

Lucifer shrugged. “It took some time and leverage. I have favors to call in and a quintessential charm. It was only a matter of time before they realized what an asset I’d be.”

 

“But see, pigheaded. That’s you and Amenadiel.”

 

He fought the urge to flash his eyes at her. His sister knew how to pick at things. It was why he liked her, as long as that energy was focused on Amenadiel or Gabriel or Raphael. It was less charming with that cheek was aimed at him. “I’m flexible in many, many ways, Sis.” He lowered his voice to a purr and waggled his eyebrows.

 

She shrieked and slapped his shoulder. “Ugh, gross. I am so right, you’ve like slept with half of L.A.”

 

“Only the most attractive parts, I assure you,” he said.

 

Slipping out of the Corvette, he dashed to the other side and opened his sister’s side with a bow. “After you.”

 

She snickered and pushed her glasses back into place on her nose. “You can’t pretend to be a gentleman now, Lu.”

 

“I can both have impeccable manners and lure the randy of Los Angeles into my bed. Honestly, works better when I’m unfailingly charming before we shag.”

 

She shook her head. “Earth has really changed both of you, huh? I never thought Amenadiel would hang with humans, let alone have a Nephilim with one. Then, there’s you. I mean, okay, total rulebreaker is your schtick but, man, I bet you’d make Hugh Hefner blush, you know, if he were alive still.”

 

“Collected that one, I assume.”

 

“No one else to do it,” she chirped.

 

He smirked at her. “I had a six-month sojourn topside in the early ‘60s. How I fell in with the Rat Pack for a bit and made it far enough to Los Angeles the first time. Gave Hugh a few tips on style.”

 

“I am so not surprised.”

 

She followed him, taking a few quick steps for each of his strides as they made it to Linda’s front door. Lucifer frowned down at his sister. “You’re here a lot.”  


“More than I’m at the gates of Hell or the Silver City, definitely.”

 

“I know you’ve only got a few hours between pickups.”

 

“Excluding huge ass natural disasters or wars, yeah.”

 

“Have you ever?”

 

She frowned. “Have I what?”

 

He shrugged before knocking on Linda’s door. He could be as blunt as anyone with Ella and most of his friends. Had no problem reveling in innuendo with the detective, mostly in the beginning as a way to goad her into her adorable eyerolls. However, he found himself stumbling a bit with Azrael. Despite the eons between them, he still saw her as the angel crying on his lap more often than not in a quiet corner of the Silver City. It was odd to think of her ever having taken a human lover.

 

“Well, Lu?”

 

“Humans. Have you ever dated one?”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t have the time. I…Remy thinks they’re basically monkeys.”

 

“Remiel was never charming.”

 

“And they’re not, although dead ones are pretty sad and boring. I just…even if I had the time…it seems too complicated. I mean, not to make you guys feel bad but you’re clearly not doing well with Chloe.”

 

“Quite,” he replied, a muscle tensing in his jaw despite himself. His sister had always had a way to put a fine point on everything.

 

“Amenadiel apparently has co-habitation and nothing more mastered with the mother of his son. And the mess Raphael made…”

 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her. “What? He’s on Earth?”

 

“Oh, uh…” Azrael, who had always been the worst liar in the universe, blinked huge, owlish eyes back at him. “You know, he passes through. Healing, uh, things.”

 

“Assuredly not, unless he’s changed since I was last in the Silver City.”

 

“A lot changes in six thousand or so years, Lu. Forget I mentioned him.”

 

“Probably won’t, and we will be addressing that brother later---”

 

He would have pressed more for whatever secret his sister had stumbled onto. Because if Raphael, one of the most insufferable of the archangels, had taken a human lover, then that was interesting. Also something Amenadiel would have gleaned by now, especially after his vacation back home, if it were common knowledge. Since this was the first he’d heard of it and because Azrael suddenly looked like she’d rather be _anywhere_ but here under his scrutiny, Lucifer was certain no one but Azrael and Raphael, himself, knew about this.

 

 _Interesting_.

 

But it was then that Amenadiel, looking slightly harried as he did most of the time these days and with a papoose attached to his stomach like the world’s biggest and dopiest kangaroo, opened the door.

 

Patting Charlie’s back, he regarded Lucifer first. “You’re late.”

 

“I’m making a fashionable entrance, Brother. Besides, I’ve brought a wayward sibling.”

 

Amenadiel froze for half a beat before turning his attention to Azrael. “Are you here for one of my family?”

 

Azrael frowned and put her hands on her hips. Lucifer remembered then that with or without her dagger and her nerdiness aside, sis had once been far from a peach, was a dangerous warrior in her own right. “Amenadiel, I am here for no one. Lu invited me for food, and I rarely get decent stuff. I’m totally hungry. I don’t have Linda or the baby on my list, I swear.”

 

Their brother relaxed only a bit. The frown lines were still etched deeply in his features. “If you’re here to just take Charlie to the Silver City…I know Remiel wanted that, but I’m not ready for him to be there.”

 

“For what? A holiday to see Dad, who’s never there?” Lucifer pried. “You didn’t mention Remy wanted something like that from her visit.”

 

Amenadiel looked over his shoulder even as Charlie stirred and cooed. “Never mind, but if you’re here only for dinner, Azrael, then you’re more than welcome. We have lasagna and garlic bread. Salad too.”

 

“Well, Linda’s quite domestic these days, isn’t she?” Lucifer replied, trying to reconcile the sharp-eyed doctor with a Betty Crocker home life. He found it wasn’t quite squaring together.

 

“I made it. She’s been resting today.”

 

Azrael’s eyes got even wider. “Dude, you can cook?”

 

“I’m a stay at home father; I can do many things,” Amenadiel replied, finally stepping aside from the door. “Come in, and please keep any mention of Remy’s visit quiet. Linda doesn’t know that happened.”

 

“Yes, hiding Celestial business from the women we love always goes so well,” Lucifer grumbled. “Taking pages from my playbook is not recommended, Brother.”

**

Linda was watching him. And not in the fun, can’t get enough of the walking heroin and screaming about hot yoga way. No, he knew this look. This was the probing look she’d leveled at him when she’d dug in her questions about Samael, a name so very dead and an angel who no longer existed. She stared at him this way in his own penthouse when she became the first human---the first being---to actually ask the Devil what he _desired_.

 

Bollocks.

 

He hadn’t been doing as good a job charming her and being breeze at family dinners as he’d thought. Then again, it was a bit daft to hire the most incisive therapist in Los Angeles and then be shocked when he couldn’t trick her. But it would be more bloody convenient if he could.

 

“So,” Azrael continued her story. “I get there, and it’s the kind of scene Lu would have been proud of. I mean, there’s this guy and he must be like eighty and he’s wearing a Superman cape, which okay gonna be weird to explain before he gets new stuff at wherever he’s going, but his wife’s under his actual body and it’s heavy and what a mess. I just…”

 

Amenadiel glared at her as he helped feed Charlie his bottle. “Maybe fewer stories about souls you’ve collected.”

 

Linda shrugged. “Superhero role playing is more common than one thinks and hardly a paraphilia. In fact,” she blushed a little, and Lucifer wondered if Amenadiel noticed how red her cheeks were growing. “costumes are not unusual for consenting adults in bed at all.”

 

 _Oh, he’d say, and he remembered_.

 

“He can hear this,” Amenadiel said, glancing down at Charlie.

 

“He’s not even six weeks old, and you and Maze recount best battle kills all the time to one up each other.”

 

Lucifer shrugged. “Americans are far more prudish about naked cuddle time than about violence, but, perhaps, we can talk about something that won’t ruffle our brother’s feathers so.”

 

Azrael sighed. “Sorry, I kind of thought the story was funny. I don’t have many funny stories at my job cause, well, it kind of sucks.”

 

Linda nodded. “If you don’t mind me asking, Rae Rae…”

 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “It’s a silly nickname, Sis.”

 

“I like it and I think some people have trouble pronouncing angel names,” she countered.

 

He didn’t need clarification on the “who” there. It was highly likely that “Azrael” was downright difficult for an eight-year-old Ella to say.

 

“It’s quite fine, Rae Rae,” Linda started again. “But did you get to pick your job?”

 

“Nope. Dad just assigned us whatever we’d be good at. I guess based on what we could do.” She closed her eyes and her brow furrowed in concentration. A moment later, a second Azrael tapped Linda on her shoulder. The good doctor jumped about a foot in the air and grabbed her chest. The second Azrael flickered into nothingness and his sister opened her eyes but kept her focus on her plate. “Sorry, I figured compared to stopping time or the whole ‘desire’ thing, mine isn’t even that showy.”

 

Linda took a sip of water and nodded. “It was definitely interesting. So, do you think your job came from your gift, or that your personality influenced which ability you’d have to start with?”

  
Azrael frowned but seemed mollified enough to face Linda. “It just is. I could always do this, and once there were humans to ferry around, Dad said ‘go get them’ so I did.” She cut her eyes to him but looked back to Linda fast. “By that time, when Dad gave an order, we all listened. We knew by then what happened if you dind’t.”

 

Lucifer drained his wine in a gulp. Nothing like being the scapegoat _and_ the boogeyman of the Silver City. Like that never got old. “Quite, but I know Linda’s trying to make logic out of a situation where there is none. No one can figure out Dad’s mysterious---I like to call it ‘absentee’---ways. She even thought we had angel school.”  


“Like Harry Potter?” Azrael asked.

 

Amenadiel laughed and set down Charlie’s bottle. “I know, right? Angel school. Oh man, what would you even learn there?”

 

His sister was laughing so hard tears were running down her cheeks. “Wait, so was there a sorting hat?”

 

Lucifer couldn’t keep himself from smirking too even as Linda glared at all of them. “If the houses hold then what? You’re Hufflepuff, Sis. I think Amenadiel and I, since we’ve taken turns Falling, get to be Slytherin.”

 

His brother wasn’t versed in the ins and outs of the series. Lucifer had cable and sometimes got bored in a way orgies couldn’t satisfy, so he’d caught the films on telly. Besides, it was always on. He’d seen them enough, even skimmed the books. Amenadiel didn’t know enough to question the designation or care much, but, seriously, someone who organized a hit on his own brother was far From Gryffindor material.

 

“Okay, very funny. But, I mean, it’s a lot to figure out. I’m human, and the Team Celestial thing comes with a steeper learning curve than medical school,” she countered. “Besides, you all are out there creating stars and stopping time and taking dead people to St. Peter.”

 

“Doesn’t actually do that,” Azrael clarified.

 

“Oh,” Linda somehow deflated at that. “You’d think God would have given you some training in all of it as opposed to letting you figure it out on the job.”

 

“Dad wasn’t one for communicating. Ever,” Lucifer replied, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. But Linda knew more than anyone exactly how many issues he had with his father and, frankly, his whole upbringing and family, besides the handful gathered here. He stood and pulled his cigarette case from his jacket pocket. “Apologies, but if you don’t mind me stealing out to the garden. I need a drag.”

 

Linda nodded. “I should tell you it’s a filthy habit, but since you can’t get sick…”

 

“And I promise the sulfur and brimstone in Hell are harder on the lungs,” he quipped. Across the table Azrael frowned, and her eyes seemed shinier than they had been. “I’ll be back.”

 

“Good,” Amenadiel boomed, having no awareness of the tension in the room. Like usual. “I made strawberry shortcake for dessert.”

 

My how domesticity suited him.

**

  
Lucifer expected the small, timid hand on his shoulder to be Azrael’s. It was one thing to try and reconstruct a relationship with a six thousand or so year lapse. It was quite another thing to be reminded even as a passing barb of the pain he’d suffered in between. And he didn’t begrudge her for trying or even for her sympathy because, yes, she hadn’t sided with him when it mattered but his favorite sibling was still alive, so she’d chosen wisely and well.

 

He’d fucked it all up.

 

It was all he was good at.

 

But when he realized it was Linda instead, Lucifer sighed and snuffed out his second cigarette.

 

“Not in the mood for Amenadiel’s attempts to be Martha bloody Stewart. I’m fine.”

 

“Do you want to try that again once more with feeling?” she asked, standing shoulder to shoulder (or attempting to) on the veranda surrounding her garden. “Lucifer, I’m hardly an idiot.”

 

“Never thought you were, Doctor.”

 

“Then, you know that maternity leave never would have applied to you, especially after all your body problems and the realization of your self-hatred.”

 

“How long?”

 

“Huh?”

 

He turned to her and narrowed his eyes. The way she spoke of his epiphany…she hadn’t been shocked by it, had she? “How long did you know that I hated myself, and that was what was eating me. We’d been seeing each other for over three years by the time I had such a useless, sodding thing as an ‘epiphany’ and you humans place too much value in them. But you knew before I did, didn’t you?”

 

Linda nodded. “I can only help lead my patients, but I can’t force them to self-discovery. If I’d told you after you apologized to me for putting a _hole_ in my wall that you hated yourself, hated who Samael was, then you would have shut down and stopped seeing me at all. But, yes, it was obvious from your reaction how much you hated yourself. How much you still struggle with it, epiphany or not.”

 

“You could have said something as a friend,” he countered, his voice quiet and plaintive, something he hated to hear in himself. Weakness of any kind. “You did that once about me and the detective.”

 

“I don’t think you ever would have believed me till you go there on your own. I’ve had a lot of clients over the years, Lucifer, but none of them were as good at denial as you. And I’m not saying that to be mean to you. I think considering the utter, baffling amount of trauma you’ve suffered that if you didn’t come up with steepest denial and the thickest mental walls possible, you would have crumbled by now. I do understand that.”

 

He wished that he was still smoking, that he could feel the burn through his lungs. “You can’t understand because I don’t understand it, myself. I want to move past hating myself. I want to have my life back before I started with the devil bits problem.”

 

“Has it returned?”

 

He forced himself not to tense, to stay as relaxed as possible. “I haven’t checked even my wings since the masquerade. Way I’m feeling, I assume they’re black as soot and leathery as anything, yes.”

 

That would have to satisfy her. No way he was telling anyone outside of Ella and Azrael about the damn tail. Now just a nub, thank you very much.

 

“Ella saw me yesterday. I mean as a friend. We grabbed coffee out. She said it was okay, that you cleared her to talk to me since she _knows_ now.”

 

“Yeah, she seemed overwhelmed and I figured you could help. The detective and I aren’t on the best terms currently. We’re better than we were, but it’s all business and professional right now. Ella needed someone more comfortable with this…” he took a deep breath before he continued. “With _me_ to help her understand all the Celestial ins and outs.”

 

“You hadn’t mentioned that Chloe has you on non-active duty. Ella mentioned you doing paperwork mostly and sometimes origami shapes when you’re really bored, but not being actually out in the field. She said Lux is quiet most of the week now.”

 

He ground his teeth together and took a few quick breaths to keep his temper in check. It slipped more these days than he’d like. The little minx. He’d made her promise not to talk about his flare ups (dumb term that), but she’d still kept the spirit of the deal and not the letter. There were plenty of just in the precinct behaviors that Ella could squeal to Linda about.

 

And had.

 

“I wish she hadn’t said that.”

 

“I’m back to work next week anyway, and for family, it wouldn’t have mattered, Lucifer. I know that just trying to forgive yourself and get better isn’t magical. I understand that you have literally eons of self-hate to get through. I can’t even begin to understand how it must hurt that Chloe’s keeping you on desk duty right now.”

 

He started to pace, his hands clenching at his side. “I can’t even blame her because she’s right. I don’t care about humans knowing about me, never have.”

 

“I’m aware.” Linda laughed a little at that.

 

“But, I do care if something somehow connects back to Charlie. And I can’t trust myself not to sprout wings or red skin or Dad knows what else in public. I don’t want to sit things out, and I really loathe how much pity is in the detective’s eyes.” _And fear_. “But I won’t get my nephew dragged into something by accident. I’m the King of Hell, not a monster.” _Not yet._

 

Linda surprised him by hugging him tight. That was more Ella’s bag. They’d rarely embraced even over their years together, but it was odd how reassuring such tiny human arms could be. She couldn’t stop anything from happening to him, not really, but for a moment, he almost believed she could.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“What?” he asked, pulling away from her and staring down into her eyes.

 

“I know how much you hate desk duty. I know how impatient you are by nature. The fact that you’re trying to figure things out fully to keep Charlie safe means everything to me.”

 

“Shh,” he said, breaking apart from her and straightening the lapels of his jacket. “You’ll ruin my reputation. I’m the bad influence uncle, remember? ‘M not here to take care of babies. Detest the things.”

 

Linda snorted. “Of course, you do, sure.” She patted his hand, and it didn’t escape his notice that she was looking at the skin there longer than she had to, even if it was peach as usual. Well typical for him until lately. “You can tell me anything. I won’t even tell Amenadiel or Maze. I promise. If it’s embarrassing or hard, it’s still between us. Ella’s so worried, and we both want to help.”

 

“I don’t think you can, not this time. Besides, you need to ease back into work, right? No need to head shrink a crazy Devil off the bat again. I’m fine, and you need to get rested up to be the mom and the breadwinner that my nephew needs while Amenadiel is figuring out that you can be a dad and have a job too.”

 

“He’s trying. He’s very good at being the house manager, really. He keeps me and Maze and uh…all of us on track, and he loves to stay so focused on Charlie.”

 

Lucifer frowned. If he had been having arguments with Remy over where Charlie would be raised---on which plane---then there was a huge chance that Amenadiel watching Charlie 24/7 had more to do with Celestial manipulations than just fatherly concern.

 

“True, but I can’t burden you when you’ve got so much going right for you in your life. I’m not worth it.”

 

“You know that I have a bedwetter, a kleptomaniac, and a fading action heroine on her fourth divorce al scheduled next week. You’re not that bad compared to Cheyenne crying over who’s getting custody of her poodle.”

 

He grinned at that, grateful that Linda had that effect on him even now. “I’ll think about coming in. I have this case that Detective Douche and Ella have conscripted me to first, but once that clears, I’ll try.”

 

Linda glared back at him, and there was fury and determination in that look. This tiny woman who had stolen the heart of the Silver City’s greatest warrior, who had survived an interrogation and torture session from the Goddess of All Creation, who, even now, could cow the Devil.

 

“Don’t try, Lucifer. I want your word.”

 

“That’s…”

 

“You word that after your case is over, you’ll start seeing me again. Don’t use Charlie as an excuse to stop therapy. It wouldn’t be good for you or, frankly, for us either.”

 

He sighed and drummed his fingers on the railing. “I’m fine, really.”  


“You never lie.”

 

“I’m managing, then.” Which was true; he just wasn’t managing _well_.

 

“Promise you’ll start back with therapy, please. Don’t make me sic Amenadiel and Azrael on you too.”

 

“Fine, I don’t like being ganged up on. You have my word that after Detective Douche closes this case, I’ll be back on your sofa.” He waggled his eyebrows and tried for innuendo. “And, Doctor, if that’s where you wanted me all this time, you only had to ask.”

 

“Thank you for the promise. I’ll hold you to it.” She shook her head. “And I’m happier where I am now, but nice, failed attempt to try and distract me. I know defense mechanisms when I see them.”

 

He shook his head and turned toward the French doors of her dining room. Through the glass, he was heartened to see Azrael and Amenadiel laughing over cake and the whipped cream squarely sat on his sister’s nose. “Of course, I only pay for the best, and you dear doctor, are surely that.”

 

_Even if I have to suss out a way to throw you off my trail._

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer starts undercover at the school to solve Colin Whitmore's death.

**Chapter Twelve**

Ella surprised him by hugging him tightly and then patting him down, including his backside. After she’d finished that, she yanked his hands to her and double checked them thoroughly too. Lucifer rolled his eyes and resigned himself to the fact that all the human women in his life who knew were going to just be double checking for devilish bits from now on.

 

“Well, _cariña_ , if you wanted the full show, you merely had to ask,” he said, unable to keep the exasperation out of his tone even though he’d been aiming for a leer.

 

Ella punched him on the shoulder. “Dude, I just had to check. Before I take you into the surveillance van to get the debriefing from Dan and the wire stuff…just wanted to make sure that, you know, you wouldn’t rock his world too, you know?”

 

Lucifer sighed and slipped the tortoise shell glasses from his pocket and slipped them on his nose. If he were going undercover as a substitute teacher at the _St. Mary’s Preparatory Academy_ , then he was going to look the part. He’d also opted to wear a tweed get-up that matched his new, academic image. Even had the suede patches on the jacket to show for it.

 

“I’m not odd today, Ella. Well no more than I usually am. Believe me, after setting your plan in motion early this morning, I triple checked everything.” That included the damn tail stub which was at least small and seemed to be healing fine. Not that he thought the Devil could get an infection, but what did he really know these days.

 

His friend smiled sympathetically back at him. “Totally understood. I mean, I don’t mean to, well, you know?”

 

“Hover over me like I’m a child. I suppose not.” His tone was snippy, and he knew that, but he was getting tired of everyone fussing over him. It was nice that in all their misguided ways---even the detective’s---they were trying to keep him safe and sane, although Lucifer suspected the sane part was crumbling away fairly quickly. However, he didn’t need so much pity from so many humans. From anyone, really. It threw him off center. “I’m fine, and I’m a _professional._ ” Off her skeptical look, he amended. “ _Mostly_ a professional. If I’d woken up with horns or something else I bloody well wouldn’t have come.”

 

Ella’s eyebrows shot up to her hair line. “Could that happen?”

 

He shrugged and adjusted his jacket sleeves. “I’m not above ruling it out, to be fair. I’m fine, Ella, and I promise not to let the Devil out of the bag if I can help it.”

 

She nodded. “I’m just trying to help, Luce. I know I’m asking a lot of you right now, but if Colin Whitmore’s parents weren’t so upset…if this wasn’t so awful, I wouldn’t have.”

 

He sighed and let the stiffness ease out of him. It was hard to stay mad at Ella. She was the most like a puppy of about any human he’d ever met, so perky and jovial. It made even the Devil feel badly to disappoint her. Reaching over, he squeezed her shoulder. “I understand. I merely object to being overly scrutinized. Most of the time, I can control myself and not worry about ‘devil bits.’ If this takes a few days of just chatting up the students till someone confesses, I should be fine. In and out, yeah?”

 

Ella smiled brightly at him, but the expression didn’t quite meet her eyes. Starting ahead of him, she trotted toward the surveillance van. “Great. So, did you do what I asked?”

 

“Yes, to make my excuse for not being at the precinct extra authentic, I tore the plumbing out of the wall of the ladies’ room at Lux myself. The plumbers have been at the club since seven a.m. on a very expensive rush order.”

 

“You have the money.”

 

“I do,” he replied. “And I understand completely that the detective is thorough enough to check up on my excuses. You’re not wrong. It’s best to create a paper trail while Detective Douche and you have me moonlighting.”

 

Ella narrowed her eyes at him. Unlike Linda, she couldn’t cow him. When it came to the Douche and how he’d blamed Lucifer all year for Charlotte’s death when it was Cain’s fault, well, Lucifer had no sympathies. He deserved many things, but Detective Douche’s unending ire wasn’t one of them.

 

“You shouldn’t call him that. We’re all on the same team here.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her from behind his new glasses. “Are we? With the Douche, it hasn’t seemed like that in a very long time.”

 

Ella’s eyes didn’t meet his gaze as she patted his forearm. “Dan’s been through a lot, and we haven’t always been there for him. It’s been such a hard year because Chloe found out all the big, uh, Heaven and Hell stuff and I get that’s not going so well. I was struggling so hard with my faith and too much partying…we could have been better supporting him. He lost one of the loves of his life, and he just had to muddle through with it.”

 

Lucifer felt that tension in his jaw again, and it was a few moments before he could speak. “I do appreciate that. Believe me, we all lost Charlotte, and it was a terrible blow.”

 

Ella quirked her head at him. “About Charlotte---”

 

“She’s in heaven. I mentioned already that Amenadiel took her, himself.”

 

“No, I mean that weird like ‘stepmother’ history thing. Was that real?”

 

Lucifer sighed. There would be so many stories and gaps to fill in with Ella. He’d have to get used to the exposition. “Long story very short---my Mum, the Goddess of all Creation, possessed Charlotte a couple years ago. Got Mum exorcised and sent to her own, new universe. Last year or so of her life, Charlotte was herself but struggling for redemption. Does that clear it up?”

 

She gulped up at him like a fish out of water. “There are other universes?”

 

“Well, you have to have the flaming sword to cut through the fabric of reality, and I don’t anymore.” He frowned and waved a hand before his friend’s slack jawed face. “Dearie me, I’ve overloaded you again, haven’t I?”

 

“No…um, yes…no wait, maybe a little?” She stammered. Ella blinked as if all of his story finally caught up with her. “Wait, God has a wife?”

 

“Had a wife. Terribly contentious divorce, I’m afraid.” Lucifer felt his voice rumble low in his throat. “Let’s just say I’m _not_ the only family member he kicked down to Hell for eons.”

 

“He wouldn’t!”

 

He frowned, not unsympathetically back at her. “ _Hermanita_ , my Father is many things. In deference to your former devotion and how this must pain you, I wish I could say most of them were good.”

 

“I…wow,” she rubbed her head and turned to the van doors. “I wish some of this would stop blowing my mind.”

 

He patted her back. “If it makes you feel any better, I promise most of the time Linda seems to be dealing with this and less surprised. I’m complicated. I know.” And why was it suddenly so hard to meet her gaze?

 

Ella looked back over her shoulder at him and shrugged. “Well, dude, that’s what makes you interesting. So, get that game face on so Dan can, uh, stay in the dark about it, and we’ll catch a killer. That always gets me focused.”

 

Lucifer smirked. “I assure you that I can fool Detective Douche from now until the sun burns out.”

 

“Literally even.”

 

“If I so chose,” he conceded, following Ella into the van and crouching low to avoid hitting his long, lanky frame on the van’s roof. “Well, Detective Douche, I hear you’ve need of me.”

 

The other man looked rougher than Lucifer remembered. Granted, since his own problems had reared their very ugly heads in the last almost two months, Lucifer hadn’t paid much attention to the douche. It was easy with the other man squirreled up under the alcove in the precinct. However, Daniel was drawn and pale. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was flat and a bit greasy. A small part of Lucifer felt badly for the douche. He hadn’t lied to Ella when he admitted that Charlotte’s loss hit them all hard. Of course, it hit him harder than most even though he knew where she’d ended up. Maybe because he _knew_. She’d been so special to him, and now he was barred from ever seeing her, especially a happier, freer her, ever again.

 

Maybe the douche felt the same way.

 

  
Detective Douche sneered back at him. “Well, I hate to break up your busy schedule of folding origami cranes and stalking Ella at her lab after the second shift is over.”

 

Ella swore tersely in Spanish and set her hands on her hips. “Nuh-uh, we are not doing this.”

 

“He started it,” they both echoed, and Lucifer figured that did nothing to vouch for either his or the douche’s maturity. Not that Lucifer, despite his ancient age, had ever claimed to be mature. That was boring.

 

“I don’t care. This is about Colin Whitmore, and his family. If you two idiots can get along for a few days, then _neither_ of you deserve to work for the LAPD.”

 

“I work with it,” Lucifer muttered.

 

“Whatever!” Ella continued. “Dan brief Lucifer, and I’ll get his pack on. Lucifer, don’t goad anyone. Let’s just get this done, _no ve?_ ”

 

Dan blushed and nodded. “I promise, Ella. Truce for the next few days. Is that a deal, Lucifer?”

 

He chewed over the wording. Even if he’d once welched---somewhat---on his debt with Cain, Lucifer took his word as, ironically enough, sacrosanct. Detective Douche might not know he was the actual Devil, but even he knew Lucifer well enough by now to understand that was his Achille’s heel. If Lucifer gave his word to be civil for the next few days, he’d be bound to keep it.

 

He eyed Ella who nodded back at him so fiercely her ponytail bobbed. Deciding it would be best not to piss off his best friend, Lucifer sighed and extended his hand to the detective. “I promise to be on my best behavior. No nicknames, no baiting, nothing against you, Daniel, until this case is closed. After that, we can go back to being however we want to be to each other. Shall that suffice?”

 

Dan nodded. “Alright, and I promise not to bring up Charlotte or anything else after this moment. We get in, and we get this done.”

 

“Deal it is then,” Lucifer finished it off by shaking the other man’s hand.

 

“Besides,” Daniel said as he started flipping through his case notes for the debrief. “I wouldn’t want to upset our best tool, would I?”

**

“Good afternoon, class,” Lucifer said, setting down his satchel---let it never be said he wouldn’t go all out for an undercover job---and smiling broadly at the collection of students before him.

Pity they were a bit young because, he wasn’t going to lie, the Catholic school kilt, much like a nun’s habit or a priest’s collar, had always been a bit of a prize to him. Nothing like exposing the hypocrisy of those who swore they loved Dear Old Dad best. But he was on a job, and he was working very hard on _not_ being a monster. This was a junior level class, so best not to let his imagination wander. However, he wasn’t immune to the effect he had even on the bags of hormones sitting in front of him. Most of the girls were eying him like prime rib and at least a few guys were stealing glances his way.

 

 _Take that, nub, definitely still have it_.

 

“Anyway,” he continued after he’d written his name on the board. For this task and considering the nature of the school, he’d opted for an alias. “I’m Mister Luke Petredis, and I’ll be the substitute this week.”

 

The portion of the class not focusing intently on him (and, again to be fair, mostly the male half) slumped in their chairs and made to pull out their phones and boot up their laptops.

 

He clicked his tongue. “Now, I might be a new substitute here, but I’m fairly certain cell phones are a no in class. I can’t do anything about the laptops, but maybe you’d like to pay attention. I know most students your age find Old Will complicated to get through, but _The Tempest_ will be on your final when Mrs. Scott gets back, so best you actually work through it with me. Besides, not to brag---oh who am I kidding, I love to do that---but I happen to be quite the Shakespeare expert.”

 

He perched on his desk and crossed one leg over the other, eying his audience with rapt attention. He was rewarded with at least most of them staring back. It didn’t give him cult vibes, so he was fairly certain his mojo wasn’t working overtime. It was more that he assumed anything novel in the tedium of high school was a welcome distraction, and a substitute teacher would fit that bill.

 

“Now, you’re starting this unit today. Has anyone read _The Tempest_ before? Do you know anything about it?”

 

One girl raised with long, red hair in a braid down her back stuck her hand up tentatively. “Um, is it the one with the three witches?”

 

“No, lamb, that’s _Macbeth_. Like that one too. Love that there’s always a loophole in a prophecy. Quite true that. Those things are always bloody hard to understand. Anyone else have a guess about the play?”

 

Another girl, who seemed like quite the Queen Bee, based on her exquisitely applied make up and the non-uniform compliant Burberry shrug she wore over her blouse, leaned forward and licked her lips. “This is boring. I mean, the real teacher isn’t even here. Wouldn’t you rather just tell us more about yourself, Mr. Petredis?”

 

Lucifer swallowed as about ten other students nodded enthusiastically back at him. It might be possible his mojo was a bit uncalibrated of late. He’d have to really work on that with Ella or maybe Linda, since Ella had never seemed attracted to him in the first place. Probably an early age inoculation to divinity thing.

 

“I think it best to keep up with the story. Well, then, it’s actually one of my favorites, like I said. I mean, it’s not _Hamlet_ , but I am unfairly impartial to that one.” He chuckled to himself, thinking of the signed manuscript Will had gifted him as his topside vacation that time around had wound to an end. “It’s got magic and a deserted island and a monster and about everything you lot would probably get into. If you get past the language and being used to Elizabethan English, it’s quite fanciful.”

 

He returned to the white board and wrote one of his favorite quotes down. When he was done, he turned back to the class and read it aloud:

 

“"The nineteenth century dislike of Realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass. The nineteenth century dislike of Romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass." He took off the glasses he didn’t need, unlike some angels he could name, and nodded toward the board. “Technically a quote from Oscar Wilde so not someone you’ve read…no, scratch that, Catholic school. Nothing you’ve read.” He sighed, how he loathed the church. “Anyway, I love the point old Oscar made. And it meant enough to him to put it in the preface of his most famous work, again something this school will be far too uptight to let you all read but I highly recommend it: _The Picture of Dorian Grey_. Does anyone have any idea what it means?”

 

Crickets would have been louder. No wonder children seemed so daft these days. Did the schools not teach anything? The less said about that new math that he’d once been tricked into helping the urchin with, the better. Seriously?

 

One of the guys in the back, a broad-shouldered guy with a letterman’s jacket on---did they do that anymore or did he have to get that special ordered---rolled his eyes and grumbled. “Do we have to care about any of this dumb shit? Look, put on a DVD or whatever, and we can just zone out. Substitutes don’t count as real teachers.”

 

Technically, Lucifer only had to track down a potential suspect and not care about the subject matter, but since he had a soft spot for both Shakespeare and Wilde (and once had been, ahem, very hard for both too), he at least wanted to make the effort.

 

He cracked his knuckles and leveled his glare back at the kid. “Is that an offer of a guess, Mister?”

 

“Donovan. Name’s Samuel Donovan, and it doesn’t matter about the final or anything else for me. I’m starting varsity and will be next year for the football team. Dude, I just have to show up.”

 

Lucifer filed that away and turned back to the white board. He had a few other quotes about Caliban and his plight, which he often thought was the best way to contextualize the play. He knew from the way the air shifted just so around his ear that the mobile phone was coming at him. Without turning around, he caught the sodding thing in mid-air and crushed it to chunks in his grip. Without a word, he strode to the bin and dropped what was left of the phone (not much) into it with a clang.

 

When he faced the class this time, every single one of the students were wide-eyed in shock.

 

“You’ll have to do better to get one over on me, I assure you. Now, which one of you threw it? I think I can guess but can’t hold the lucky winner over without some verification. That wouldn’t look right, now would it?”

 

Every arm but one in the room pointed frantically toward Mr. Donovan. Lucifer nodded. Of course but also convenient. He had his first envoy into questioning the football team, even if this bloke didn’t exactly scream that he’d the lion’s share of the brains on the team.

Hardly.

 

“Well, Mr. Donovan, congratulations. You’ll be doing detention with me.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is mojo and an interrogation.

**Chapter Thirteen**

Samuel Donovan slouched in the desk in the front row. He’d shuffled there slowly after Lucifer had dismissed the rest of the class. The posturing from the kid was amusing if not pathetic. Even if Lucifer hadn’t commanded the legions of Hell and been an archangel once upon a time, it wouldn’t have impressed him. He knew a coward when he saw one. As puffed up as the kid was, he was still averting his gaze from Lucifer’s and working hard to act like he didn’t care about the scrutiny.

 

“Sorry about the mobile,” Lucifer said, his voice low. “Best not to chuck expensive machinery at people’s heads though, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

The kid crossed his arms over his chest. “You have no idea who my father is, do you?”

 

Lucifer smirked, quirking one lip up just a bit as he regarded the jock. “I was never impressed by a line like that. Trust me, my father could beat up your father. Let’s put it that way. Also, it’s the insufferable kind of thing my brother would have said once upon a time. You stand on your own merits or fall by them.”

 

“You broke a thousand dollar phone. You’re never teaching anywhere in the state again.”

 

He shrugged. “I don’t care about that. What I do want you to do is look at me.”

 

Donovan hunched over in his seat. “Screw you.” Then he uttered another word that Lucifer wouldn’t repeat in polite company or any company, actually.

 

He leaned back against the desk and drummed long fingers over its surface. “Been called far worse in my time, and I’m not sure that’s the hill you want to die on, kid. Your father might be, ahem, ‘impressive’ but that’s quite the mouth on you.”

 

“Go to hell.”

 

“Oh, been there, didn’t like it, and definitely left,” he replied. “Now, as one of my favorite movies likes to say, we can do this three ways: the fast way, the slow way, or my favorite way.”

 

“Like I said,” Donovan continued, staring at the floor. “Go to hell, man.”

 

Lucifer clenched his jaw. He did not want to adjust his mojo if he didn’t have to, but if the kid refused to look him in the eye, he’d have to at least turn the dial up enough. Hopefully, he wouldn’t end up with a Catholic school full of new acolytes looking to confess to him out of the blue. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated as best he could, trying to draw on any feelings---most of them self-loathing---that had been roiling through him the night of the masquerade. A faint thrum of electricity seemed to zip up his spine, and he knew the second it worked (Dear Dad please only in this room) as Donovan’s head snapped up and regarded him.

 

The kid’s eyes were wide, and Lucifer both hated and was relieved to see the expression: fear.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

He inhaled sharply and forced himself to exude the confidence he didn’t feel. Lucifer didn’t have long to question the snot-nosed pain in his backside lest he risk inadvertently, uh, roofying the entire school. “I want you to talk to me about the football team. About Colin Whitmore, and what happened.”

 

“What are you? A cop?”

 

He laughed long and hard because that was the least of what he was. Right now, he rode the bench and at best worked along side the detective, when she found him useful, and she no longer seemed to. “Hardly, but you’re clearly proud of being on the team, and everyone’s talking about that poor boy’s death. So, what is this all about, Mr. Donovan. What do you desire?”

 

As Lucifer suspected, the kid didn’t even offer a moment of resistance. He figured that was owing less to his own Devilish upgrades and more to the fact that Donovan was beyond simple.

 

“I want to sleep.”

 

Lucifer huffed. Apparently, his mojo wasn’t quite calibrated the way they needed. “That’s lovely you want to go beddie-bye, but that’s not what I was angling for. I repeat: What do you want?”

 

The kid slumped back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. “I mean it. I can’t sleep. I have nightmares about that day on the field. I…it started as just something that Scott wanted, and then we were all piling on. Someone started kicking him, and then Coach showed up, said he and the captain would ‘take care of it.’ I figured that meant they’d get Colin cleaned up and cover up the hazing. I didn’t think that…you have to believe me. I didn’t think they were gonna literally ‘take care of it’ and finish him off!”

 

Lucifer leaned forward. “Do you know why that happened?”

 

“I can’t…I say anything more, man, and I’m going to end up like Colin. I just…there’s so much more shit that goes on here than anyone can imagine, and Coach Harrison is on all of it. Colin couldn’t keep his mouth shut, so now he’s dead. I can’t be next.” Donovan stood and was panting hard. “I want to just get out of school in one piece.”

 

Lucifer nodded and closed his own eyes, taking deep breaths, and forcing his own ability away. Maybe mojo was too small a word for it, flippant as the detective had been about his skill at drawing out desires. A gift from God seemed like a joke now or at least a curse. But he kept inhaling and exhaling steadily until he felt that zing of electricity stop running through him.

 

He opened his eyes again and nodded briskly at the kid. “Thank you, Mr. Donovan. I won’t tell anyone what you told me. Now, run along, and try not to throw expensive and somewhat heavy electronics at teachers’ heads. Next time, you should try spitballs. There’s a reason the classics don’t go out of style.”

**

 

Daniel paced before him back at the penthouse. The other man shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “You broke a kid’s phone?”

 

“Did anyone miss the part where he chucked the sodding thing at me, and I caught it---rather brilliantly I might add---and then diffused the situation.”

 

Ella gulped. “You smashed it.”

 

He figured the extra hard glare she was giving him was because an average human couldn’t crush even a cell to powder as he had. Tough, she wasn’t the one who’d almost been pelted. Besides, they made phones so thin these days. Who could really tell what someone could or couldn’t do in the heat of the moment and push of adrenaline? Also, not like he bloody well had ever hidden himself before. One smashed phone wasn’t a big deal.

 

It wasn’t.

 

Dan shook his head. “The lieutenant spent the last hour smoothing things over with Samuel Donovan’s dad who, great luck, happens to be an associate at the _Wheeler Law Firm_. I don’t think I need to remind all of us what ball busters they are. They won’t be pressing charges but only because his son begged him to forget it and move on. I dunno how you got him to open up…how all that hypnotism crap works…but you really did a number on the kid. Seriously, what the fuck? Can you never do discreet, Lucifer?”

 

He leaned against the bar in his penthouse and sipped his Scotch thoughtfully. He was pissed as he often was these days with Daniel, but he needed not to…being calm just had to be best for keeping devily bits away, didn’t it? So he sipped the tumbler till it was empty and then answered.

 

“He threw the projectile at me.”

 

“Still a phone,” Ella muttered.

 

“I took advantage of having a football player in my class to start investigating the team. We all agreed that. Also, I’m being generous by not pointing out that even while my club is in shambles, and I have other things to do, you recruited me. It wasn’t the other way around.”

 

Daniel stopped pacing and glared back at him. “This is what you do, Lucifer. I thought for one case, you could act like a fucking human being. Not just stampede in and do weird characters and throw your weight around. This is what you do every God damn time.”

 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and tried not to think about some of what the detective had said. Being human or, more accurately _not_ , was exactly what was eating at him of late. But he had given his word to be civil, and even if Daniel couldn’t keep his word, Lucifer certainly _could_.

 

“I needed to try and blend in with the rest of the faculty. A three thousand-dollar Prada suit would not have done that. Second, it would be nice if once in a while the department had my back. Third, I got the information we needed. Tomorrow, I’ll find a pretext to go to the coach’s office. I already have a theory about what exactly Samuel Donovan could have been alluding to, based on some of the files from the file drawer my predecessor was keeping---old term papers and the like. Isn’t that more than you bloody well had ten hours ago?”

 

“I didn’t have a headache and a crisis barely averted with the nastiest litigators in the city. It’s like I said about Joan; you rush in, fuck around, and you aren’t one of the good guys, Lucifer. You just aren’t.”

 

Ella shook her head and put her hands on her hips. “Dan, get out.”

 

He blinked back at her. “What did I say?”

 

She bit off something terse in Spanish that made Lucifer grin despite his sour mood. “What didn’t you say, _culo_? I need you to go for a bit. Tomorrow, bright and early at seven at the van by the parking lot we’ll mic up Luce. You need to go home and just not be such a dick, Dan. He’s trying, and he’s the one doing _us_ the favor. Okay? Just, please leave. You promised to be civil and you didn’t even last the day!”

 

Lucifer sat up straighter but didn’t say anything. Usually, he’d crow about Ella coming to his aid, dig in at the douche’s own insecurity. But he hardly felt up to it. In point of fact, a dull ache was starting to spread between his shoulder blades, something he couldn’t place. It wasn’t the pinch of wings---even the beastly ones---erupting from his skin. It was something else, something hot and fevered that pushed against the skin there.

 

_Shit._

 

Hopping up, he strode to his bedroom. The last thing he needed was to expose his devilish problem to Daniel. He was done showing humanity his infernal side, and, even if he weren’t, Daniel Espinoza was the last human on earth he’d ever reveal his true nature too.

 

Besides, after the last couple months, Lucifer was bloody tired of being a freak on display.

 

Ella seemed to understand the shift in his mood, and he heard her rapid fire talking at Daniel until the man reluctantly stomped out of the penthouse like the child he was and slid onto the elevator. She turned and eased back into his room, just as Lucifer had peeled off his tweed jacket and Oxford shirt. He was facing her when she hurried into his bedroom. His arms were bent awkwardly behind him, trying to feel out the hotspot on his back, to figure out whatever was going wrong there.

 

Ella narrowed her gaze at him. “Are you okay? What’s actually going on?”

 

He sighed and hated that he couldn’t hide anything from her. _You ask a girl to cut off your tail the one time…_ And suddenly she was your babysitter. “Honestly, I don’t know, _hermanita_. I was arguing with the douche and then my shoulders just ached.”

 

She frowned. “Your wings?”

 

He shook his head and spun around for her so she could evaluate his back for him. “No, those never hurt. Divine gifts” _mostly_ “tend not to.”

 

Soft fingers grazed the warm spot on his back, and he shuddered and took in a harsh breath. “Luce, what is this?”

 

“Dunno, can’t exactly suss it out for myself. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head, and let’s not give my angry body any worse ideas.”

 

He heard her gulp behind him. She ran her fingers over the patch of skin, and he gritted his teeth. “I…it looks like a cyst or like the skin’s inflamed. It’s not red like, uh, Devil red.”

 

“Thank the universe for small favors.”

 

“But it’s pink and clearly inflamed. It’s coming to a head too. Like I said, if I didn’t know you, I’d say it was a cyst about to need a lancing, but I’m going to assume that’s not like that.”

 

“I don’t know what it could be. Let’s also hope against a tendril or some other cosmic trick from Dad. The bastard.”

 

She sighed and then sat down on his bed. “It looks pretty raw. Like I said, it’s coming to a head. Are you sure you can get through tomorrow?”

 

He hated Ella just a little in that moment, although that wasn’t quite true. He cared about her, and he was glad she knew. He was glad he had a semi-sister again. Hell, he was glad that he and Azrael were finding even footing again too, and that was a side effect of Miss Lopez knowing too. However, he couldn’t stand pity. He’d learned to live without _anyone_ but Mazikeen caring (and only in the way a demon could) for eons. His siblings certainly hadn’t given a shit that he’d been torn out of heaven and burned to cinders in the Fall. He wasn’t used to Linda or Ella regarding him with such concern, with them clearly thinking he was fragile as an eggshell and needed to be protected.

 

He didn’t.

 

He was the Lord of Hell and that was his whole problem.

 

Lucifer wasn’t supposed to need anyone else’s sympathy. The _Rolling Stones_ were wrong.

 

She sighed and patted his shoulder as he sat beside her too. “Luce? I didn’t mean to drag you into something you couldn’t do. If this is too much---”

 

He clenched and unclenched his jaw. “Don’t bloody put me on leave. I can’t be sat behind a desk again. I need something, and the detective…she won’t trust me right now. I promise, it’s twenty-four hours. I get to the coach, get him to say too much on the wire, and you have your probable cause for more.” He turned and regarded her sincere brown eyes staring up at him. “I need this, Ella. _Please_.”

 

And he was not begging. Not at all. Lucifer Bloody Morningstar never begged. In point of fact, he’d made hundreds of people beg in this very room instead.

 

Also, how did one, small human get to dictate to him what he could and couldn’t do? Well, really one human and a living, breathing miracle. But he couldn’t dwell on the detective today. It hurt too much.

 

Ella bit her lip and nodded. “I’ll be over tomorrow early to double check the, uh, bump. We’ll go with that. I’m so sorry, but if it’s worse…I have to keep you safe.”

 

Lucifer crossed his arms over his chest. “‘M not a child, _cari_ _ña._ I can handle this.”  


Ella sighed and kicked the bed with her heels just as Azrael had before her. They really were so startlingly similar. How had he not seen it earlier? “I hope so, Luce. I really do.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Azrael is summoned to help Lucifer hide a few, new developments before his continued stake out at the high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have been away so long. I was traveling this month to Florida and New York City but should be posting more regularly now that I'm home.

The ache between his shoulders woke him in the early hours of the morning. The light was grey and slipping through the windows of the penthouse but just barely when he grit his teeth and sat up in bed. Lucifer shuddered and reached behind his back with both hands, frantically trying to reach the spot between his shoulder blades that now burned almost as fiercely as his skin had in the immeasurable time after he’d first landed in Hell. But it was a spot he simply couldn’t reach, where no matter how he twisted his long arms, he couldn’t get a finger against the risen bump Ella had described about eight hours earlier, around eight p.m. and before she’d left.

 

A final twist nearly caused him to tumble out of bed, and Lucifer swore. “Bloody fine then. I can get this sussed out another way.”

 

Albeit he didn’t want to try turning a million different ways in front of his bathroom mirrors either. He supposed a selfie with at least the mirrors helping him might get him a better idea of what was happening, but he needed someone to touch it, to let him know what the Hell---operative term that---was happening to him. There was another solution, one that would not involve Ella and give the game away, but he wasn’t sure it would work.

 

How much of a brother-sister bond he’d established already, and if the stitched back relationship between him and Azrael covered another medical check in. Only one way to find out. Slipping out of bed, Lucifer rushed through his closet, which, alright, was roughly the size of the average flat in Los Angeles or New York, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He was taking far too much advantage of his “in case I shred your clothes” stash. But he didn’t feel like dressing fully, yet wanted more than just his usual robe would have provided.

 

The concessions he was making to the fashion gods of late.

 

Sitting on his sofa soon after, tumbler of Scotch in hand, he pressed the palms of his hands together and did something he hadn’t done since he was young and answered to the name Samael.

 

_Azrael, please, I **need** you._

Before he even opened his eyes, he was welcomed by the flutter of wings. Flicking his eyes open, Lucifer held back a sigh at the sight of his sister’s feathers. Pride had always been his sin, and, when he’d cared for them, his wings had been the most beautiful amongst his siblings. The only wings in the Silver City as white as snow, as pure as marble. Azrael’s were mottled, like an osprey or another bird of prey. Not unbecoming, but not as gorgeous as his had been. Something sharp lanced through his lungs, and it was harder to breathe than he’d like to admit. If she ever saw what they’d become now…

 

Angels didn’t react to the infernal with fear and insanity the way humans tended to. Although, in Linda’s defense, she had bounced back from her catatonia like a champ. But his siblings could and had looked on him with disgust. When he’d changed while still bound and chained in the Silver City, with the ashes of the angels fool enough to side with him still hanging in the wind around him, all of the angels present had gasped at him in utter revulsion.

 

But Azrael hadn’t been there to see, hadn’t been able to bear it.

 

He couldn’t let her see what he was now, what he’d apparently done to himself all along and now done even worse. If she ever saw the bat-like mockeries that divinity he sported now, she’d leave him. He knew that, could feel it deep in his bones. And his heart.

 

She schlooped her own feathered appendages away and strode toward him, her frown deep and concerned. She sat beside him on the sofa and shook her head at the mostly-finished tumbler in his hand.  “You don’t always have to drink, Lu?”

 

He clenched his jaw and took in several, shuddering breaths before replying. She was trying so hard, and he was just folding under the weight he was trying to carry. Lucifer wasn’t as tired as he’d been with the Angel of San Bernadino debacle, but he was floundering and finding sleep harder and harder to obtain as his benching had drawn on. And damn it all if the detective hadn’t been right. A small, tense argument with Ella in the lab and he’d grown a tail. Butting heads with the Douche, and his shoulders felt like they were on fire.

 

He had less control over his body than he’d ever had on this plane before, and if this was what epiphanies meant, then count him out for any others.

 

“I like the taste, and I can’t get drunk without substantial effort. I was six or seven handles in for amputation, but I rarely drink myself into a stupor.”

 

Azrael still frowned back at him and, despite her own ancient age, she still seemed so young. Technically, she was a few millennia his junior, one of the last angels Mum and Dad had ever sired before Dad fell in love with his new pet project---humanity---and out of love with her. Yet, whenever he looked at her, especially now with those Coke bottle glasses perched on her nose, she seemed as young and as vulnerable as she always had when they’d hidden away from too many annoying siblings among the clouds.

 

“I worry.”

 

He sighed again and set the glass down. “Have you ever heard that adage humans say?”

 

“Which one?” She quirked her head at him. “I spend time with humans, dude. I mean, mostly dead ones, but Ella and I have been friends a long time. I’m not some alien here.”

 

He grinned at that. “If you were stoic, we’d never have gotten on, little sister. Amenadiel still seems, Dad help him, like he’s on a long, long learning curve for human behavior. Some things he gets, some things might as well be in Greek to him.”

 

“We don’t all have silver tongues,” Azrael said. “But which expression?”

 

“‘Be careful what you wish for.’ And I suppose that since I spent a lot of my time on Earth until recently brokering in deals with humans in which fine print was of the utmost importance, I should have been more aware of it on my own behalf as well.”

 

“I don’t understand.”  


He stood but angled his backside away from her. Even if that spot between his shoulder blades burned like a raging fire, he didn’t want her to check for him. At least not for a few moments longer. “Linda once told me there’s a huge difference between being lonely and being alone. When I was able to go on holiday…”

 

His sister rolled her eyes. The brat. Tough if she didn’t like the accent. He’d cultivated it since the 1800s. It was his. He didn’t begrudge her for sounding like she was from the San Francisco Bay area. They all affected whatever they chose, at least the angels who passed and worked among the humans. The few of them there were. No one spoke Enochian on this plane, after all.

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Whilst I was up here, until my consulting job, I was never alone in a room.”

 

His sister blushed. “Lu! I do not need a sex story. I, uh, might have ducked in once or twice into Lux and seen more in booths than I needed to.”

  
“Duly noted,” he said, forcing levity into his voice. “But I mean it. I would cram any abode full of humans ready to party and, yes, to partake in any temptation I could offer them. I thought it wasn’t being lonely because it was so much better than the demons of Hell I was surrounded with, Maze excluded. But it was still so lonely. Working with Ella and the detective…once even with Daniel…it’s felt like family. Having Linda and a better relationship with Amenadiel has made me crave that kind of familial attention even more than I ever thought possible.”

 

“And, dude, that’s totally a good thing.”

 

“Yet, now I see all the women in my life: you, Ella, Linda...even the detective in her own way. I don’t want to be lonely, but I don’t want the concern in your eyes to be so pitying. I’m a grown devil, made my own bed, and now I’m lying in it. I’ll figure it out.”

 

Azrael stood and sighed up at him. Like Ella, she was so tiny too, so fragile. Remy wasn’t any taller than she, but she was a warrior, as fond of the wild hunt as any Greek goddess or alleged Amazon was rumored to be. She projected an aura of ferocity. Most of his sisters did in their own ways. Not so with Azrael. She was small and delicate, still felt like she needed protecting, even if she was no peach herself or hadn’t been quite this soft before Ella.

 

“But you can let us help. Lu, I just got you back, I’m trying to help. Sometimes, you know, I do sleep. I woke up from a power nap to a prayer so just let me see what’s got you worried, okay?”

 

He nodded. “I’m not weak.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I never said you were. You’re just kind of messed up right now. I mean, you said Amenadiel fell for a while. He got better, got his powers under control---all this weird, on Earth self-actualization stuff aside---so can you?” She sighed and squeezed his forearm. “I fucked up for over six thousand years. I don’t think I could freaking hover over you too much in a few days even if I tried.”

 

“Then, I suppose I’ll have to let the lot of you bloody hens---minus Chloe of course---peck at me as you will.”

 

“Yes, we’re so awful, bro.” She squeezed his forearm once more before pulling her hand away. “So, out with it. You totally didn’t call me at five a.m. for drinks and brooding.”

 

“True.”  


“What’s wrong? The tail’s not back cause, uh, not to be a bitch about it but that’s pretty hard to miss!”

 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her. Right, Azrael and her ability to cut to the heart of the matter less than gracefully. “No, it’s not back.” He sighed and turned around for her. “It’s my shoulders or this spot that Ella found behind my shoulders. Less than twelve hours ago, she said it looked like a cyst.” He shrugged not completely versed on human medical problems, but he figured his sister knew far more about these things as she was in hospitals for the bulk of her time. “It hurts though, and I know it’s not my wings.”

 

She snorted. “Dude, wings never hurt.”

 

That was mostly true, although there was a pressure the few times he hadn’t been able to keep his bat wings in check that pinched in a way his feathered ones never could have. Azrael most certainly did not need to know that.

 

“Quite, but something hurts.” He stood with his back still to her and waited for her verdict. “Do you see anything there?”

 

“Dude, you’ve got a foot on me and all the mood lighting in here isn’t help.” She sighed and patted the small of his back. “Lu, sit back down on the sofa and I’ll turn all the lights up higher. Then I might actually be able to see something. I swear, you and Amenadiel and Michael…it’s like growing up with trees for brothers.”

 

He rolled his eyes but indulged her, waiting as she turned up every dimmer switch he had to antiseptic levels of brightness and returned to him. She was silent. Far too silent behind him (maybe they also bonded back in Heaven over their chatterbox natures). “Sis?”

 

Her fingers skimmed his back and he grit his teeth as fire exploded across his inflamed spot from even that slight a touch. “What is this?”

 

“I don’t know. Can’t exactly see it myself. Ella said it was pink and a bit infected looking? I don’t even know what infection looks like for real on this plane. We’ve simulated it some down in Hell, I assume it’s accurate so yellowish?”

 

Angels were not meant for medical shenanigans. Again, nothing dear old Dad had prepared them for.

 

She sighed and brushed her fingers over it again. “Lu, uh, this isn’t a cyst.”

 

“Okay, then what is it?”

 

“I go to hospitals to pick up dead people---humans you know---I don’t like diagnose this stuff!”

 

“You can see it, and you know more about weird things than I do!”

 

She slipped back around him to stare into his eyes. His little sister was worrying her lower lip so hard, he almost feared she’d bite through it. “Okay, so don’t freak out.”

 

“Yes, because you’ve been rather brilliant at staying calm so far.”  


“I…so, the good news is nothing is yellow so I’m thinking no pus?”

 

“I could not possibly loathe my life more right now.”

 

“Shouldn’t we call Linda? She’s a medical doctor. I mean, Amenadiel explained that psychiatrists don’t really do the medical stuff after they start practicing. Like she’s totally not gonna deliver a baby or something, but she probably has more of a clue than me.”

 

Lucifer shook his head. “No, unacceptable. The doctor doesn’t know I’m having flare ups again, and I do not want her to.”  


“Mature.”

 

He barked out a laugh and was mostly sure it didn’t sound hysterical. “I never promised I was that.”

 

Azrael snorted and crossed her arms over chest. “Bro, clearly. I’m just saying that…okay…so I’m not an expert on anatomy but I have seen a lot of accidents and stuff.”

 

“Not reassuring.”

 

“Well, you won’t call the actual doctor!” She countered. “But it’s like, I dunno, split open now and the center is like a horn.”

 

He blinked. “Beg your pardon?”

 

“Uh, where’s your cell phone. I’m so not describing this correctly.”

 

Lucifer inhaled sharply and tried not to panic. Maybe she’d seen wrong, or there was another explanation. He was not…he just couldn’t panic now. That only spiraled and made his body _worse_ ; he’d figured that much out during the masquerade fiasco.

 

“It’s on the bar. Bring it and let me see.”

 

His sister complied dutifully, and in a few minutes, she had a reel of photos for him to review. He thumbed through what she’d taken and with each pic, his stomach roiled worse.

 

She was back behind him now, hovering over the damned spot, but not daring to touch it. “I…what do you think it is?”

 

Lucifer forced himself to keep breathing, an annoying necessity even for Celestials. The raw spot had definitely split open and in its center was a rounded lump of about four inches in diameter. The material there was a brownish-grey and glistened a bit in the flash of the camera, as if it were covered with scales or another hardened material.

 

Seriously, what in Hell?

 

“I…it’s not a horn.”

 

“Okay, great so you’re not like that Satan on _South Park._ ”

 

“Did you introduce Ella to that or vice-versa,” he bit out.

 

“Neither. Her brother Jay was a huge fan. I mean, I guess technically horns are on the head. So you’re not a rhino, check.”

 

“You’re the worst sister I have.”

 

“You hate Remy so we both know that’s not true,” she countered. Her fingers grazed the spot in question again, and it burned again at her touch. He hissed at the contact. “Are you okay?”

 

“It’s not bloody pleasant, no.”

 

She frowned. “It’s kind of pointy in the very middle. I mean, it’s just sort of erupted and this is so not making you feel better, but the center’s pretty sharp. I mean, if I were human, I’d have pricked my finger by now like a lot.”  


“Spikes.”

 

“What?”

 

“That’s what it is. I thought…when this happened last time.”

 

“Whoa, you’ve had this before?”

 

He stood then, both grateful for his sister being here because he’d have become a sodding mess on the floor by now if she hadn’t---bat wings were bad enough to experience alone, thank you very much---and also annoyed by her prying. Rushing back to his bedroom, he snuck into his closet long enough to shrug on a t-shirt. She’d probed enough. If she wanted to review the damn nascent spike, she had two dozen pictures to refer to. Ruddy perfect.

 

“Lu,” she said, coming to stand at the bottom of the stairs to his room. “You said ‘last time.’”

 

He sighed. “I said I’d had control problems before, and that’s why the detective and I are barely talking.”

 

“She’s nice. I don’t think many humans would have tried to understand what Ella can see, even if at the time, Chloe only was told that, you know, Ella could see dead people.”

 

“Perhaps, and we will have a long talk later, Azrael, about how you’ve really fucked up Ella’s life.”

 

His sister’s face fell. “I didn’t think.”

 

“I can’t throw stones. We both take after Mum, and we tend to rush into things. I can’t even say that I haven’t made the same mistakes with Linda and the detective. I don’t think knowing me has been good for them either.” Scratch that. He bloody well knew it hadn’t. Linda had been tortured by the Goddess of all Creation and only survived due to a miracle from Amenadiel’s own hands. The poor detective had shattered so hard, she’d run all the way to Rome, and even now seemed scared of him.

 

_Will you look away in horror?_

 

He swallowed hard but didn’t step toward his sister. Pushing memories away, he forced himself to stay centered on the here and now. He had to be at the van in a little over an hour, and he needed a way for Ella to not notice the fucking spike now surging out of his back.

 

Bloody perfect.

 

Azrael was still the Angel of Death, still a warrior in her own right who would not take no for an answer. She surged up the steps herself and set her hand on his cheek. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. I meant it. I fucked up, like big time. You wanted my help for the Rebellion and I…I think I chose wrong. Then, I didn’t speak to you for millennia and, okay, I sent you Ella and kept her here, but that’s not even a drop in the bucket. Please, _Sammy_ , let me help.”

 

He bit back the urge to snap at her and flash his eyes. _That_ hadn’t been his name in eons, but maybe it should be. _Poison of God_ still felt like the right moniker, like something that would _always_ apply to him not matter how hard he ran. Everything he touched eventually rotted away. Like what he’d tried to create with the detective, and that moment on Forest Clay’s balcony seemed even longer away and more remote than his time in the Silver City before the fall.

 

About as likely to ever happen again as a trip up to Heaven too.

 

But she was trying, and she was here. And these were things he’d never thought he’d get from Azrael again. Sighing, he set his hand over her own. “‘Lu’ is fine. _Please_.”

 

He willed her to get it, to understand that the angel in him was well and truly gone, and it wasn’t ever coming back.

 

She nodded but didn’t drop her hand. “Fine, Lucifer, please, what do you mean ‘last time?’”

 

He stepped back enough for her hand to fall from his cheek, although it ended up resting on his shoulder. “When I had my epiphany that I hated myself, everything spread at once, like a rash or an infection…whatever it is humans get. In about twelve hours it was all over me---red skin, burns, glowing eyes.” He did not mention his wings. He would not. “I didn’t know what to do so I absconded to my room, but the detective was trying to help me and we were working a case here at Lux. I couldn’t…I didn’t hide well enough.”

 

She nodded and let him breathe deeply as he steadied himself. “And?”

 

“The detective helped walk me back enough to make it go away. I thought it was gone till a few days ago with the sodding tail popping out in Ella’s lab. I couldn’t see all of me, but I caught reflections in the glass in my room. I thought…I had _hoped_ I’d imagined it.”

His sister nodded, and her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “So spikes?”

 

“Quite a few up my spine, but I thought I’d just…it couldn’t have been that real, could it?” His voice was small and low, and he felt like he could collapse on his feet right there.

 

Azrael sighed and dropped her hand from his shoulder. “Dude, you can’t go today to the school thing or whatever you’re working out with Ella.”

 

“I have to. The detective has me doing nothing at work. Ella and the Douche at least still respect me as a colleague.”

 

“That’s cause whoever ‘the Douche’ is doesn’t even know. Ella wouldn’t let you go into a public building growing a spike out of your back!”

 

“Are you saying you wouldn’t either?” he asked, his tone icy.

 

She stepped back down to his flat’s main level and started to pace. “I know that still working means a lot to you but, to borrow a phrase from Ella, this is going totally _loco_.”

 

“You can glamour more than yourself, can’t you?” he asked.

 

She stilled. “I can hide the souls as they detach from their bodies and disguise the portals opening between realms so doctors or EMTs or actual survivors don’t see the passage, sure. So, okay, yeah I can glamour more than me.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Once, I tested how far it went out on Ella. She wanted to go blonde for junior prom, and I told her it totally wouldn’t work with her coloring and not to waste the dye on it and…oh!”

 

He nodded. “I can’t…I am not in the correct headspace to will away my problems, and I deeply suspect that the spike on my back wouldn’t even be cut by demon steel. At least I fear that’s the case. I can’t hide it for the next day or so, but I believe that you can.”

 

His sister swallowed hard and her eyes were large then behind her glasses. Oh, he had her pegged now, didn’t he? “Okay so Ella’s not-a-dye-job lasted seventy-two hours, true…”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. You glamour this so Ella can’t tell it’s there, and then get to the Silver City. After I work the case today, the three of us will meet up here tonight to figure out if any of the books in the archive can help me.”

 

His sister shook her head. “Can I go on the record, dude, as saying this is a crappy idea? We really shouldn’t lie to Ella.” He glared at her and she held up her hands in surrender. “Anymore, and I’ve only glamoured humans for several days and the one time with her. I can’t guarantee it’ll hold as well for a fellow angel.”

  
“Of which I’m not.”

 

“Close enough or devil or whatever, Lu. This could undo itself while you’re on that stakeout.”

 

“And I’ll have an undershirt, an Oxford, and a blazer over it. No one will notice.”

 

She glared back at him. Oh, yes, the Angel of Death was about to make her true opinions known. “This is a terrible idea. It’s a non-plan, really.”  


“I’m not going to be shoved in a tower, little sister. Please, do this, and then we’ll figure out how to fix this.”

 

Azrael sighed and nodded toward him. “Alright, but on your way home from playing cop, you really need to pick up a poster board and tons of markers.”

 

He gaped at her. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“Dude, you need a flow chart. I mean, you’ve been pissy about me only telling Ella some things over the years.”

 

“Her family took her to the psychiatrist and shoved her on medicine most of her life because of you. Her brothers teased her and still do because of it. You did it so very wrong, Azrael.”

 

“I know!” She shouted. “You think that doesn’t eat me up? She’s my best friend. My _only_ friend, and I messed her life up just by knowing me. You think I don’t get that it super sucks? Of course, I do. That’s why I’m telling you that this is terrible. You keep most humans in the dark, and that’s smart, great. But you tell Linda and Amenadiel one thing, Chloe one thing, Ella something else, and I don’t even know what you’re not saying to me, but I know you well enough, Lu, to know when you’re leaving stuff out and talking in circles to avoid the full truth.” She shook her head even as he shucked off his shirt. “I do this---hide what you need---and you’re going to need a massive ass flow chart to keep all the lies straight.”

 

“I do _not_ lie.”

 

She shrugged even as she strode over to him and left her hands hovering over the spot between his shoulders, that blasted and blooming spike. “You don’t tell the whole truth, Sammy, even to yourself, and it can’t last like this. Trust me, even after twenty-five years, Ella finally figured out that I’m not exactly Casper the friendly ghost, you know?”

 

He flinched as she chanted in Enochian behind him and the area where the spike was not only burned but sizzled and spasmed under the magic she was summoning. It hurt so badly that he was scared he’d scream, but he bit down hard on his inner cheek and made it through the pain---the torture of it---and, after what felt like hours, his sister stepped back toward the piano and looked up at him.

 

“It’s done. A fellow celestial would know there’s something else there so try not to be near Amenadiel if you want to keep lying.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Fine, _hiding_ things.” And his sister had enough cheek to use air quotes as she spoke. “But no human will know.”

 

He nodded and slid his shirt back over his head. “Thank you, Azrael. I owe you a favor.”

 

“Don’t write the Angel of Death a blank check, Lucifer. You think you know how to settle deals,” she said, her tone low and commanding.

 

“I invented the deal.”

 

“But you don’t know what I’ll ask in return,” she said, showing a hint of her own actual age with him. “And if you still know me as well as I believe you do, you probably know what I’d ask you if you really extended a favor to me.”

 

“I’m a devil of my word. You helped me, and I’m in your debt.”

 

She shook her head and now tears were streaming down her cheeks. “No, because I’ll ask for you to be honest with our…your family…to at least tell Ella, Linda, and Amenadiel what’s wrong with you, and we both know you’ll find a loophole out of it. I don’t want to be insulted like that.”

 

Lucifer stopped himself from denying it. He had, after all, perfected the art of honoring the spirit of a contract and not the letter when he so chose. The lawyers at _Wheeler Law_ had nothing on him when it came to manipulating a deal in his favor.

 

“Little sister, I can’t.”

 

“You’re afraid.” It wasn’t a question.

 

“I’m the Lord of Hell. I’m not afraid of anything.”

 

She sighed and scrubbed at her eyes. “Lu, you were always best at lying to yourself. I really hoped that much had changed. It’s okay to let the rest of us help you. I promise…I’m not going to judge.”

 

He leaned against the doorway to his bedroom, trying desperately for the collected insouciance he usually projected yet all the while sure he was failing to project it. “It is all our family has ever done, judge each other, rat each other out, figure out which of us was vulnerable to cast before Father. The lot of us jockeying for the love of someone who isn’t even sodding there.”

 

“Not anymore. Lu, I care a lot that you think you hate yourself.”

 

“Oh, I do _hate_ myself. That much is certain.”

 

Her tears came harder at that. “I could never…no matter what happens until we all figure this self-actualization crap out…I’d never hate you. You do get that, right? It’s totally weird and messed up and contrived---”

 

“Not helping.”

 

“I meant our family here on Earth. It’s the three of us, sure, but then Linda’s here and Charlie and Ella’s like both our sister and we both know that. It’s totally jerry rigged or whatever, but we’re not…this isn’t the Silver City, we won’t turn our backs on you again, Lu. I promise I won’t, and I know Amenadiel wouldn’t either.”

 

He stood then and crossed his arms over his chest. When he spoke, he couldn’t keep the low menace out of his voice. “Now who’s making promises she can’t keep. Azrael, please get the books from the Silver City. We need to work the plan we’ve set out, _just_ as we’ve set it out. You’re right; let’s make no deals between us. We’ve spent far too much of our collective history disappointing each other. I don’t fancy doing it again.”

 

“I won’t abandon you.” She said, holding her chin up high.

 

He wanted to believe that. But she had once---and again, bully for her cause it had saved her very life---but she’d do it again. She couldn’t see him and all of what he was, the monster he’d truly become, and not run. After all, hadn’t the detective?

 

Damn it, if he could run from himself, from his broken mind and self-hatred, from the prophecy hanging over his head and possibly still playing a part in all his monstrous problems…if he could flee from that, he would have. After all, maybe this was just how evil would finally be released from him, maybe this was all one, long warm up act and the great dragon would swallow up the Earth and all that rot that he’d always thought the crazy acid trip of a third rate prophet.

 

Maybe it wasn’t now.

 

And she’d have to turn from him then. He’d make her, if it came to it.

 

Lucifer was done dragging his siblings down with him.

 

“They turned to ash, Azrael.”

 

Her voice wavered as she answered. “I remember that.”

 

“Don’t ever let that happen to you, please.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

He sighed and ran a hand through his head. Drat, he wouldn’t have a hope of taming it down today. He barely had enough time to get to the parking lot for his mic’ing at the surveillance van at this rate. “Then, let me make this explicit and simple for you, dear little sister. I’m a monster, and you think you understand, but you cannot because it’s happening to me and I certainly can’t fathom all of it. But if…I will not let you follow me the way the others did. I will not let you anger Father by siding with me. And you’ll be good enough to save Ella that fate as well…Amenadiel and Linda and Charlie as well. I’m saying that should the time come, I _want_ you to abandon me.”

 

“I’ll get the books, and Ella’s like wicked smart. I can translate and we can put all the brain power into this. I can fix this. _We_ can.”

 

He sighed and stepped over to her and then sat down at his piano. His fingers traced over the keys, and he was proud of himself for not going for quite the obvious and falling into something maudlin by Beethoven, just a piece he’d been fond of years ago from an old jazz hole long forgotten in New Orleans. “And if we cannot, then I want you to protect our family, such as it is, even from me. That’s the only favor I want from you, Azrael. Is that not fair?”

 

She was still crying and, in apparent anger, slammed her hands down on the keys. “It sucks, Lu. I can’t…I’m supposed to do better this time.”

 

“And if you take care of Charlie and all the rest, then you are,” he said. He stood and kissed the top of her head the way he had after so many long sessions spent watching the clouds together, helping her recover from Gabriel or Michael’s endless taunts. “Can you promise me that?”

 

She rubbed at her eyes and then cleaned her glasses on her shirt. This time something from a band called _The Pixies_ he’d never heard of. Then again, grunge wasn’t his thing. “I swear it,” Azrael said, slipping into Enochian.

 

He knew she was serious. While honoring his bond was a point of pride for Lucifer, other angels were not like him. Ironic that, that the real angels were not always beings of their word. Still, any vow made between Celestials in Enochian was unbreakable, a covenant that could not be breached without holy repercussions.

 

So it had always been.

 

Lucifer nodded and hugged her close, and replied in the same way, in a language he had not spoken since he’d walked the Silver City’s golden streets. “Thank you, Sister.”

 

She pulled away from him then and set her hands on her hips, and the ferocity in her gaze was fitting for the Angel of Death, very much so. “I will fix this, Lu. It’s a stupid promise because I will save you.”

 

He offered her a small, sad smile even as the throbbing spike in his back ached and burned. “Oh, Azrael, you’re about six thousand years too late for that.” He rubbed his hands together and tried to fall back into his regular, goofy rhythm. It got harder the longer his devil bits problems continued to do that. “Now, I’ve got to get changed so that I can continue staking out the hotbed of criminality that is Catholic school.” He winked at her, even if he didn’t feel the glee he was trying to project. “Maybe today I’ll seduce a nun or a priest. Perhaps both at once. Now that would really turn this day around.”

 

Azrael sighed and shook her head. “You don’t have to pretend it’s all okay after this morning. I…you can still be scared with me if you want.”

  
“I’m not afraid,” he said.

 

And, in a way, he wasn’t.

 

He had a plan and a stop gap on top of that. Should he be unable to do anything but finally return to Hell to protect the plane and the humans he loved so much, then he at least knew that Azrael and Amenadiel would both watch over them in his stead. That was a cold comfort yet comfort nonetheless.

 

She nodded and let her wings spread from her back. The feathers were lovely in the early dawn light, and he missed his wings---his true ones---fiercely then. “Fine, then try not do anything too Lucifery. You won’t get very far on a stakeout if you sleep with half the faculty.”

 

“Or maybe I’d get way further than Detective Douche ever dreamed.” He smirked at his sister. “There’s more than one way to use one’s tongue in interrogations, if you catch my drift.”

 

She squealed, as the last bit of heaviness between them drifted away. “Eww, gross, Lu. Totally gross.”

 

He smirked wider. “I’ve a collar collection in my closet. Every father I’ve ever managed to turn away from dear old Dad. It’s quite the coup.”

 

Azrael flapped her wings once, as if in warning. “Dude, just no. I’d rather go back to doom and gloom. Totally, library time.” With a grin and a woosh of wind, she was gone.

 

He let out a long, slow breath and turned to his closet. He hadn’t much time and, even with the horsepower of the Corvette and his tendency to ignore all posted speed limits constantly, it would be a race to get to the high school on time. Still, he’d cheered his sister up enough, distracted her in the end. Azrael had too many ideas in her head, too much she was trying to make up for. He understood that. He’d missed her too, felt bad he’d avoided her on all his trips topside out of spite.

 

But she couldn’t understand, not ever. And he would do anything to keep her from seeing any more of his freak show. Not his red skin should it come back and not his wings.

 

He hated his Father, loathed him more than even _he_ thought possible as the stupid abilities and changes that came with something as asinine as self-actualization kept ravaging his body. And yet…

  
_Dad, I bet you think this is a bloody laugh riot. Hope you’re entertained, then. I just…don’t let her see. Don’t let her or Ella ever see how bad this gets. I…we both know how this ends, that it’s just another game and manipulation so I’ll go home to Hell. I can do that, know I’m fighting a losing battle **not** to do that. But don’t let them see me like Chloe did. I can’t…I can’t lose anyone else._

 

As always, there was nothing. Alright, once he’d reached out to his father and been given the dirty work of taking care of Mum via vision. But now, it was silent as the grave in his flat. That was just as well; Lucifer had long gotten used to being abandoned anyway.

 

It was the one constant in his life.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer gets wired by Ella in the van before day two; she and Dan have a disagreement over the whole arrangement after Lucifer's back to school and "teaching."

**Chapter Fifteen**

Ella grinned brightly at Lucifer as he approached her. She’d been running late that morning because, frankly, sleeping was so a pipe dream right now. When she did finally got herself unjazzed enough to slip her head on the pillow, well, her mind would wander over all the heaven and hell stuff. In the wee hours of the morning, she couldn’t even begin to understand what was happening in her life. It wasn’t technically personal to Lucifer or even to Rae Rae (although she was super pissed about the “I’m just a ghost” thing for over twenty-five years). It was more that her whole family were devout Catholics, and once, she had been too. But now…seeing how miserable Lucifer was and even how, at best, frantic and lonely Rae Rae was in her Angel of Death gig…it was just impossible to see the Big Guy as full of warmth and goodness as she honestly had.

 

At least before Charlotte’s murder.

 

But she had no idea how to keep evading and hiding from her _mamí_ how much had changed with her. How could she ever tell her mother or grandmother that not only was she never going back to church but that she was firmly on Team Lucifer?

 

Not that her friend wanted a cult; it clearly seemed to be the last thing he’d ever want. He was very big on free will and following one’s own desires after all. However, she would always back Lucifer in whatever Celestial crap was brewing, and if that meant one day taking his side against the Big Guy, then count her in.

 

 _Mamí, so I know you won’t agree with me but Satan’s real, and he and the Angel of Death are pretty much thirty percent of my friends in L.A., and God’s basically one hell of an hijo de puta_.

 

If that didn’t get her disowned, then it would get her family and the few brothers her parents could get involved enough to care coming across the country to collect her, drag her back to Detroit, and then on so much medication, she’d never see straight. It wasn’t that Ella was opposed to medication. Not at all. Her nephew did great now that he had the right treatment for ADHD---seemed to doodle less on her youngest brother’s walls---but she wasn’t actually schizophrenic. In fact, her life would be infinitely less complicated if that was her problem.

 

Not that she could convince her family about that.

 

And the tossing and turning were, unfortunately, the great parts about her evenings and, well, three and four a.m. times. If she did manage to catch a few hours before work, Ella always woke up with nightmares. She wasn’t sure what they were about, not completely, because they were barely remembered in the early morning light. But she always _felt_ like everything was burning. Something that she wouldn’t repeat to Lucifer because it would just make him feel worse, and, with their shitty luck lately, sprout horns. That was the last thing they needed.

 

So, she swallowed up her guilt and her nightmares, and pretended she was still the same Ella she’d been last week, even though she wasn’t.

 

It also meant that while she really had planned to meet Lucifer early at Lux to make sure nothing weirder was going on with his so-not-a-cyst, she’d shot him a text about fifteen minutes ago (devil face emoji practically required) and explained she’d give him a quick once over outside the van before she and Dan mic’ed him up. Currently, she was waiting outside the van, yawning fervently and waiting for her wandering devil.

 

Which, again, literal. Ella also was feeling pretty dumb for convincing herself that Lucifer was just that dedicated to being a method actor for the last threeish years. No one was that invested in a part, especially one they didn’t get. Somewhere along the way, she ended up deciding that Maze and Lucifer both being so weird was an on-brand theme for Lux, which wasn’t especially Hell-themed.

 

Had Chloe felt like this? Did she still?

 

Ella was trying hard to get an equilibrium with all the big Celestial stuff, but, seriously, she also felt like the world’s biggest dumbass. After all, not only had Lucifer never lied---compartmentalized sure but not told lies outright---but he was a weird dude.

 

Now, she knew that he was weirder than she’d ever imagined.

 

She yawned again, closing her eyes, but was rewarded when she opened him with her friend sidling up to her. Lucifer still had the very Giles ensemble of way too much tweed (it frankly _did_ go with the accent) and the glasses, which she hoped Dan wouldn’t get snippy about. However, it was far less suspicious than whoever gazillionaire designer’s spring line, and Ella couldn’t argue with that logic.

 

Ella offered her best friend what she hoped was a perky smile and graciously accepted the espresso he handed her. She sipped a few long drags and moaned a bit in genuine pleasure. “Okay, definitely better than the usual stores. Where’d you get this? Lux doesn’t do coffee.”

 

Lucifer winked at her, and, objectively, she could totally get why most of the patrons at Lux and, be honest, Southern California, had had sex with him. She’d had a few flickers of attraction when they started working together, but then he’d come to church with her---weird, she got the devil to do that---and she’d recognized even then more of a brother-in-arms, a lost soul looking for something more. Who knew that she’d found _the_ lost soul?

 

Add in the fact that especially since the psychiatrist case, he’d treated her better as a little sister than Jay and Co. ever had, and it all just would have felt _wrong_.

 

That thought aside, yeah, she was still a woman with eyeballs and who sometimes swung towards guys and she understood how that smile, accent, and overall charm would have gotten him far even without the supernatural side to his personality and skill set.

 

“I have a machine in my own kitchen, one from Italy.”

 

“Oh, of course.”

 

“I dabble because even I could use caffeine once in a while, and last night was very tense. I felt as if I owed you for handling the Dou… _Daniel_ for me.”

 

Ella sighed and set a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t wince in pain or aggravation, which, at least, was the first sign that the not-a-cyst on his back wasn’t getting larger or more inflamed. “I appreciate that you’re sticking with the deal and being civil with Dan. I mean, he’s had a shitty year, and I totally get who hasn’t, but I appreciate that you’re being the bigger man about this even if he’s been a complete dick.”

 

Lucifer’s shoulders went rigid, but his voice was as cheerful as it had been before. “ _Cariña,_ it’s honestly a point of pride and reputation. I have a certain standard to maintain. I’ve never broken a deal, all things considered. I’ve come close only once but still managed to deliver. If I were so inclined to break and over six-thousand-year record with humanity, then I would not give Daniel such an honorable distinction.”

 

“Still, I really appreciate that you’re trying. I called Dan after I get home, and we had more words.” And she’d not exactly screamed at him, but she’d definitely threatened to cut him off from preferentially looking over his cases like she did Chloe and Lucifer’s when things got backed up in the lab. That was enough to extract a new promise---one she hoped Dan would keep this time---to at least be civil

“And I appreciate that you’re trying.” He sighed and slipped off his jacket and the vest underneath it. Then started to undo his Oxford. “You’ll need this off anyway for the wires, like yesterday?”

 

She nodded. “Strip so I can make sure the bump-thing’s not worse.”

 

“Quite,” he said, puckering his lips on the word as if he’d tasted something sour. “I’m used to being a scapegoat. I’ve never liked it, but being the boogeyman and the one everyone blames from the Silver City to all of Earth, well, Daniel is hardly the first for that.”

 

He slid off his shirt and finally the t-shirt underneath it, leaving nothing between them. Ella frowned a little. She’d noted it yesterday, but Lucifer was just overall bigger than he had been. One day, she needed to quiz Rae Rae on just how angels worked---not that they apparently had known much at all about the self-actualization _locura_ \---but seriously. He’d been definitely more buff at the nudist colony than she’d have thought, than his slim suits and tightly tailored vests would have indicated. Now, he just seemed to keep getting broader. She wasn’t sure if that was psychosomatic or normal or if it could even be a sign of more devilish things waiting to erupt out from under his skin.

 

She hoped it was a normal kind of bulkiness cause otherwise…well, she wasn’t even sure they were dealing well with one (now docked) tail and a not-a-cyst. If he started being a big, hulking _South Park-eqsue_ devil, they were so out of their league as far as hiding that.

 

Lucifer frowned and waved a hand in front of her face. “ _Hermanita_ , are you alright?”

 

She nodded. “Sorry, just long night, not that much sleep. Dealing with Dan wasn’t great, and then I kind of ignored a voicemail from mom. It’s a whole thing, you know. So, turn and let me check the whole cyst-sitch.”

 

“It’s probably not that.”

 

“I don’t have a better word for it. You get the Latin, Greek, and assorted medical books out, then you can name it. Till then, ‘cyst thingy’ is the best we’ve got.”

 

Lucifer rolled his eyes theatrically, and, okay, her life was completely crazy now, but it still amused her that the Angel of Death was as into cosplay and _Star Trek_ as she was---maybe even more when it came to _Trek_ \---and that the Devil, frankly, was both pissy and incredibly high maintenance.

 

It was a good thing he could be charming when it suited him because, seriously, Lucifer could be such a pain in the ass. So prickly, and who would have guessed that about Satan?

 

Sighing, she looked up at his shoulders, a bit annoyed by the height difference because it was a bit of a crink on her neck. Then, she frowned. “Holy shit!”

 

Lucifer stilled, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet. “What have you found.”

 

She stood on tip toes to run her hands over the completely normal expanse of his skin. No bump, no inflamed pockets, no heat to the touch. It was as if the bump had never been there. “I…it’s gone now.”

 

The tension Lucifer carried in his shoulders finally seemed to loosen. He let out a slow breath and stood completely straight. “Well then, I promised you that I wouldn’t come if I had ‘devil bits,’ didn’t I?”

 

Ella offered him a smile and patted his arm. “Great, and now we’ll get in the van, get you wired up, and catch whatever is going totally crazy with the football team. What do you think is going on?”

 

Lucifer shrugged and nodded toward the surveillance van. “After you.”

 

“Such old-world charm,” she said, winking at him.

 

Lucifer gave a courtly bow, and, for the first time this morning, his smile seemed genuine. “The oldest, I assure you.”

 

She bounded up the stairs and held the door open for him. Their overall good mood dissipated a bit as Dan scowled back at them. “Oh, hey, were we taking too long?”

 

Dan eyed Lucifer’s state of undress. “You could have waited till the van.”

 

“It’s the back of the furthest removed lot for _St. Mary’s_ , Daniel.” Lucifer, seeming to honor the spirit of the deal and not the exact letter, did poke a bit. “After all, I’ve never had any trouble showing off my wares.” Lucifer smirked and sat down on a stool. “Now, Ella, if you’d be ever so kind to wire me up, we’ll continue with day two of our sting.”

 

She nodded and started getting the pack and everything assembled to stick on to Lucifer. It was soemthing she’d done for countless officers before, especially the detectives she worked with most often. Lucifer was pretty bad with stings, to be fair to Dan. She’d never mic’ed him up before yesterday, mostly because he tended to go completely off book during stings and make up his own rules. She’d been working with the department by the time he’d gotten himself kidnapped instead of Dan once. But she’d only heard stories of him co-opting a sting at Lux long ago in order to track down his own impersonator-come-identity thief.

 

Honestly, one smashed phone was actually him doing well, as far as she’d gleaned from his reputation.

 

Dan grumbled over his notes and eyed Lucifer. He wasn’t exactly a cheery morning person to begin with, but at least he wasn’t spoiling for another fight like back at Lux. “So, you have a plan for going in today?”

 

Lucifer nodded. “Mrs. Scott kept a file cabinet of her students’ work. I was bored between classes and decided that might not be a bad place to peruse as well. Not like I had access to her computer password, and I’m not a bloody technical wizard like Miss Lopez, anyway. However, the file cabinet was open…” He winked subtly at her as he mentioned that part, and Ella figured that meant it was easy enough for him to jimmy open or to just flat out crush the locking mechanism. Then voila! “…and I found that there are inherent irregularities in the term papers and essay assignments turned in from the football players. I had the list of the suspects from you and the football---well American football players but that’s another rant…”

  
Dan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lucifer can you just focus, please man?”

 

“Right then. Sorry, Detective.” Lucifer took a deep breath. “I _know_ that they didn’t bloody well write what they turned in. Some of it is college or graduate level work at minimum. A few I was able to Google about and find the sites they bought the papers from. I suspect at the very least, Coach knows far more than he’s ever said on record about _how_ his players stay both eligible and able to get scholarships to the Ivies. However, if Colin knew this too or was going to blow the whistle, I’ve no clue on that. Hence, trying to speak with the head coach today, if at all possible.”

 

Dan nodded. “Wouldn’t be surprised. My hometown back near Austin would have done that too. I mean, football…”

 

Lucifer harrumphed at that, and Ella had to roll her eyes. Lucifer wasn’t exactly a method actor, but he certainly was dedicated to being so very British even if he clearly was longer lived than not just England as a country but, well, the entire planet.

 

Ella gulped and tried not to faint. Her two best friends were almost as old as the whole universe and (apparently, eww) very literal Big Bang. Weird.

 

“…is God,” Dan finished.

 

“So football is unyielding, full of itself, and not nearly as important to daily life as it likes to believe it is?” Lucifer asked.

 

Ella narrowed her eyes even as she finished wiring Lucifer and gestured to his clothes. “I thought we were cooperating.”

 

“I was, but I’m not impressed with liars. I abhor them in point of fact, and passing off work you bought or forced some else to do or some mix of both is assuredly lying,” Lucifer replied.

 

Dan nodded. “But the scholarships, the pressure. I mean, I got to Cal State cause I was a good corner back, got me out of Nowhere, Texas. These kids already come from fairly swanky families in L.A., but I’m sure it’s the same pressure. They need to get to the right schools to impress and the coach needs a winning team.”

 

“Hence, a term paper mill and perhaps a stool pigeon who was no longer interested in letting this rot fester?” Lucifer suggested.

 

Ella shrugged. “Need proof. Thus, we need you to talk to the coach and see what we can get for some more probable cause for actual warrant stuff. Can you do that and, uh, not smash any electronics.” She frowned apologetically at him. “Luce, hate to do this to you, but can you give me your word that you won’t break any electronics this time---I mean, mostly phones, but try not to get _Wheeler Law_ on us again?”

 

“I’m not Godzilla,” he said, his tone low and strained.

 

“I was thinking more like Stitch from that…you know what, never mind,” Ella corrected. “Just word of honor you won’t smash any students’ property, even if they do lob it at you. I mean, you have great reflexes, I’m sure you can dodge!”

 

He let out a long breath, but Lucifer didn’t respond to her until he was fully dressed again. Bowing his head low, he said, “You’ve my word, _cari_ _ña._ I won’t destroy any students’ electronic property for the next day or two, as long as the sting is ongoing. Is there any other deal you’d like me to agree to while I’m in the mood to be so kind?”

 

Ella playfully punched his shoulder, trying to get some levity back in the van. “No, it’s good. Go get them, uh, Mr. _Petredis_. I mean, _The Tempest_ won’t teach itself, am I right?”

 

Lucifer nodded and stood, grabbing his satchel up as well. He’d left it in the van the night before. “Yes, right then, Ella. Daniel, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He offered them both his trademark smirk, but it didn’t seem to fit well on his face. There was still a heavy burden in his eyes, and Ella had to wonder if she were the only one not sleeping lately.

 

Who could blame him? If her body were going as nuts, she’d have a hard time ever closing her eyes too. Tonight, when they went over the books from heaven with Rae Rae, Ella would have to work harder to make Lucifer relax. Extra hugs for sure. Maybe extra junk food. The devil did seem to have quite the sweet tooth.

 

“Cool, go get ‘em, Luce.”

 

After he was gone, Ella shut the van doors behind him and sat beside Daniel to monitor the audio feed. She noticed him click off the microphone in the van. Today, after the disaster that had been yesterday, Dan insisted that the wiring of their consultant also include an earbud to get order as well.

 

Dan slipped a bottle of water from his duffle and studied her. “Ella, I…don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sleeping with him?”

 

She gasped, her eyes bugging out wide. Nothing personal to Lucifer because, again, he was attractive and the devil thing…just, no, it would be like having sex with Jay and she was _never_ getting that image out of her head now. Ugh.

 

“No, of course not. Why would you even ask?”

 

“Well, he showed up to the van already shirtless, which, okay, he _would_ do but it seemed like you were cool with it. Then, he called you ‘dear’ cause, okay, my Spanish isn’t as fluent as yours, but I know that one and the curses you leveled at me yesterday to defend him. I keep adding two and two here, Ella, and getting four.”

 

She reached back and pulled her ponytail up a bit higher. “Dude, I’m not sleeping with him.”

 

“Good because he and Chloe did that weird circling each other thing until Eve came along. Not to mention him and Eve seemed to fall apart pretty crappily too. Lucifer is not relationship material.”

 

Her cheeks flared with heat and her heart beat hard against her chest. “Look, Dan, I’m really not having sex with him. Lucifer is like my brother.”

 

“Sure, a shirtless brother.”

 

“Are you jealous?”

 

Dan sputtered. “Ella, look, what happened that one time in your lab…I thought we both agreed that we were in a bad place and not to do it again.”

 

She wanted to argue then that he’d used that against her to backtrack just enough to try and screw with her mind and loyalties so she wouldn’t cooperate with IA. Maybe that had an effect, though not because she loved Dan as anything more than a friend either. More like she’d seen the desperation the whole time that he’d been struggling with and didn’t think he deserved to have his whole career ruined because his friends had left him in the lurch. Maybe it was Trixie and Chloe too. If Dan went away, then it would affect her good friend and the little girl she cared about an awful lot, sushi shirt and all. Trying to cover things with IA made sense at the time, and Dan seemed tired and sad---who didn’t these days---but he wasn’t breaking rules, pawing through garbage and trying to seduce her.

 

Best to leave any post hook up awkward alone.

 

“I did agree. I felt so bad the next day meeting Chloe and seeing her eye to eye.”

 

Dan laughed genuinely for what she felt like had to be the first time in _months_. “Hello, the mother of Dan’s child…yeah I figured that out too.” He raked a hand through his hair.  “It’s just Lucifer is such a user. You have to know that, don’t you? Chloe and I have known him for over three years. Hell, we had to interview a month’s worth of conquests just for one case where he was a suspect. Don’t set yourself up for that.” He shook his head. “Ever since Pierce betrayed everything…I don’t know what happened in that loft, but I wish I did. It’s like something broke inside of Chloe, just shattered, and I still think it has a lot to do with Lucifer and whatever he had to do to help them get out of there in one piece than with Pierce. I…you heard what she said on the phone, but she never explained it.” He gave a humorless laugh. “I’ve already seen someone I really care about get broken down by him. I mean, Ella, just be smarter than that.”

 

She sighed and finally patted the back of Dan’s right hand as a sort of peace offering. “We’re friends. I’m serious, Dan. He’s like my brother.” She frowned. “Is that why you’re so hard on him? Is it because of Chloe too and not just Pierce and Charlotte and how we all wished we’d known about the Sinnerman thing earlier?”

 

Dan nodded. “Look, the dude is charming. I get it. I started out before you ever moved here hating his guts. But then he works on you, and you like his schtick. He’s crazy as anything, but you roll with it cause it’s funny and it’s good times…for a while. But he still should have told us about Pierce the second he suspected it…should have trusted that even with little proof the three of us would have had his back to figure anything out. Charlotte wasn’t a cop anymore. She was an attorney, and she was sticking her nose somewhere she couldn’t be. Look what happened? I watched him play and toy with Chloe and whip her around while running off to Vegas to get married out of nowhere and having total breakdowns. Joan would still be alive if he’d fucking captured Tiernan.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“You don’t know that she wouldn’t,” he countered. “Lucifer’s fun for a while, but the shit he gets away with---that people _let him get away with_ \---adds up. Then people get hurt or, worse, dead. I like you, Ella.” He blanched, probably thinking about the one, huge mistake they’d made together. “Not like that, and I think we both have made some monumentally fucked up decisions this year instead of dealing with our issues.”

 

“Understatement.”

 

“All that aside, I watched him break Chloe. I watched his secrets and whatever he had Charlotte on get her _killed_. Her kids don’t even have a mother anymore, even if it was a bad divorce. They’ll never have a chance to make amends or anything like that. I don’t want you to be next.”

 

Ella swallowed hard, trying not to think of her stress and sleepless nights, of waking to fading visions of fire. That wasn’t Lucifer’s fault; it was just her being scared. Being human. “I won’t be.”

 

Dan shrugged and made a few notes on his steno pad. “Look, I tolerate Lucifer because I know what he is.”

 

“Dangerous, right?”

 

“Yes, but it’s more than that. He’s a _tool_. We use him, use sometimes the money and pull he has in the community, and more often than not, we get the benefits of that crazy ‘mojo stuff’ as Chloe calls it. When we can’t get anything else, having him lead the interrogations is a huge boon, but I don’t trust him anymore than I would my side piece on its own. Get me?”

 

Ella’s throat felt like ash when she tried to swallow. How could Dan even think that? Yeah, they’d lost so much this past year, especially with Charlotte’s murder. Yes, Chloe was clearly not dealing at all or at least not well with the heaven, hell, and Lucifer’s actually the real devil incarnate thing either. But he wasn’t a tool. He was their friend, damn it.

 

“You’re wrong about him.”

 

“Then,” Dan said, flipping on the mic on their end. “We’re at a sort of standoff because that’s what I think about you. I…be careful, Ella.”

 

She sighed and, for her, was quiet the rest of the morning. Rae Rae had seriously fucked up her life but mostly through incompetence and not cruelty. Lucifer had been nothing but solicitous of her, utterly kind, maybe more than ever after his tail slip up. And yet…lessons from catechism long ago filtered through her mind. She could almost hear abuela’s voice in her head.

 

_Se llama el Príncipe de las Mentiras por un razón, no ve?_

 

Maybe there was a reason they called him the Prince of Lies, but of the two men she’d started the day with, only one had ever lied to her or used her, and oddly enough it was not the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for delays, trying for a more regular posting schedule!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer tries to get information from the football coach with mixed results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone for your feedback!

**Chapter Sixteen**

One day, Lucifer supposed, he’d have to explain all the ins and outs of being the Devil with Ella. Not that it wouldn’t take a long time---it was a Hell of a lot of back story (pun intended). After all, even after threeish years of sessions with Dr. Linda, and he wasn’t sure she had heard even close to all of it yet. Maybe she’d gotten more chunks filled in since she and Amenadiel started cohabitating. Lucifer assumed as much. His brother could pontificate with the best of them. Clearly something Amenadiel got from “dear” old Dad. However, the last five days had been crazy, even by his standards, and he hadn’t had the time between tail amputation (seriously sodding self-actualization) and eruptions of nascent spikes on his back to give Ella a general rundown of what he could and couldn’t do.

 

Archangels, of which he was not one, at least not anymore could hear prayers directed towards them. Most went to Dad, which was a waste of any poor human’s time. Dad hadn’t talked directly even to any of the host, as far as Amenadiel reported it, since bell bottoms were the height of style. Dad was certainly not going to humans like some miracle Uber, just dial up and request. Still, some of his siblings probably got called on from time to time. He wondered if any of them bothered to show up. Didn’t seem bloody likely, but it was still possible. However, he was not in that “just pray to me” contingent, and it’ll come on through like reaching out to touch someone.

 

Thank small mercies because he figured the kind of nutcases who voluntarily prayed to Beelzebub or Abaddon…etc. weren’t the type of people he’d want to hear inner thoughts from.

 

That said because he was such a fucking crazy and unique---seriously thank you subconscious and, by extension, _Dad_ \---mix of the divine and the _infernal_ , his hearing was excellent. Lucifer hadn’t measured it perse, but he could hear much better than humans, he was sure of that. So, even if his commlink had gone silent, he was able to pick up Dan’s voice as he started bitching about him. It was sort of that cocktail party effect. Lucifer could pick out his name in a noisy club or from a distance, quite well and automatically, thank you very much.

 

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep prepping his desk and the smart board for his coming lecture. Lucifer had two sections of sophomore English to get through before his break period where he might have a hope of tracking down the coach and grilling him. Still, it bit into him to hear Dan’s laundry list of complaints against him. Again, some were very much _not_ his fault. Yes, he and Amenadiel could have handled how Charlotte dealt with the revelation of divinity better. Maybe he should have kept Amenadiel from dragging Charlotte into their exposing Cain plan from the very beginning. And yet, she was as far as his brother had indicated happily situated in the Silver City, spared a fate that until the last couple of mixed up years that she would have been doomed to suffer on a loop.

 

It would be cold comfort for Daniel, who didn’t believe about heaven and hell, hadn’t taken comfort from Amenadiel from what his brother had mentioned.

 

Still, Lucifer did _not_ pull the trigger on Charlotte, and he shoved Mazikeen’s blade through Cain’s sternum in part to avenge her. Yes, there was jealousy playing in that choice as well as a territorial need to protect Chloe, but part of the pleasure of killing Cain definitely sprang from making him pay for what he’d done to Charlotte.

 

And yet, other things Dan ranted about weren’t untrue. After all, he should have…if he’d just detained the younger Tiernan at the warehouse so many things would be different. Rookie Joan, lovely woman, would be alive. He wouldn’t have lashed out and paralyzed the pillock later, leading to his slippery slope of self-hatred. His wings would be normal, and he wouldn’t…maybe he never would have had that damn epiphany at all.

 

_Maybe the detective would still be able to look me in the eye…_

 

That was the crux of it. No matter how kind Ella was about him, how he appreciated her sticking up for him, she was _wrong_. He’d buggered up everything with Chloe since the very beginning. He had had so many times to try telling her, to explain to her. Maybe if he’d come clean and insisted more forcefully about the blood test after Malcolm, things could have been better. Maybe if he’d still broken down---as much as a betrayal as it had felt to who he actually was now---and shown her his wings after waking up in the desert, things wouldn’t have imploded.

 

Omniscience was his Dad’s thing.

 

Lucifer couldn’t ever know if there would have been a better way or time to reveal the “I’m actually the devil” to Chloe. Maybe there was no good way to say that to a person he wanted…to date was too small a word. _To be with as long as he could_ was what he wanted. Linda had eventually recovered. Ella seemed to be trying her hardest to keep up with the river of shit he’d now ended up directing her way. But neither of them would ever be partners.

 

Eve hadn’t understood he wasn’t the same tempter from the Garden millennia ago. Hell, he barely understood that either. And Chloe wanted him to be _better_ , to be the angel he’d been. Lucifer couldn’t be that either, fucked up far too much on his own accord---no divine intervention needed there---to ever be close to the good man the detective assumed he could be.

 

But he had owed the detective… _Chloe_ better than he’d given her. Better than compartmentalized half-truths, a marriage out of nowhere to Candy (who was still quite lovely and a great accomplice), and then the ultimate reveal standing over the body of her former fiancé (and man-ham) Cain.

 

Letting out a long, slightly shaky breath, Lucifer forced himself to tamp down his hearing and ignore his name. He’d heard quite enough from Daniel of late, but the worst part was that none of what he said _felt_ like a lie. Charlotte was anger and overstatement, but so much else was true. He’d broken Chloe and Eve in different ways, and maybe the Douche wasn’t wrong to warn Ella off. No, they weren’t lovers---never would---she was far too much like Azrael, like a _hermana_ , for that.

 

But being around him wasn’t good for human health in general.

 

Lucifer sighed again as he typed up the quotes he wanted for the smart board readout. Best not to dwell on anything he couldn’t affect currently. As far as his consultant life went, the less he thought about the precinct---Daniel and the Detective both---the better. He was halfway through his presentation notes for the board, waiting the final twenty minutes for the students to trickle in, when the familiar but not sensation shot through his fingertips.

 

The spot between his shoulders was still sharp and steady. His sister had hidden it from human perception, made sure even if Ella touched it that she wouldn’t even feel it or be, ugh, pricked by it. But this was different, an itching and squirming over his fingertips that he’d vaguely been aware of at the realtor murder site but had ignored in the panic of the psoriasis that wasn’t.  

 

He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, as if that would will away whatever new and fiendish level of bullshit his subconscious was trying to do to him.

 

If only _knowing_ what was happening to him was the same as being able to bargain with himself, his damn feelings. It had taken Amenadiel two years to grant himself his wings back. Lucifer had been dealing with this current hiccup, and he still wasn’t going to call it ‘deviling out,’ Detective, for only a couple months. Fat lot of luck he’d have getting his subconscious to listen at all in so little time.

 

Opening his eyes and looking back at his hands, he hissed out a small breath. Nothing was claw-like, and it was a sign of how terrible his life had grown, that _not_ having grown claws was a good day for him. Small victories. The _smallest_. That said, his nails were still far longer than they should have been, a bit thicker and glossier---though at least normal and not reddened---and somewhat pointed.

 

It was the difference between appearing like he was going through a goth phase or some weird heavy metal affectations and the mess of his hands a couple months ago. Enough of a difference to pass as long as he kept his hands in his jacket pockets.

 

Sodding perfect.

 

Heading back to the computer, Lucifer finished setting up the quote, typing slower around his longer, thicker fingernails (again not yet claws, thank you very much). The miscreants would be in soon, and he’d have to be mindful to keep his hands hidden as best he could.

**

 

“Okay, but I don’t really get it yet.” The posh girl this time was wearing a shrug that was clearly this year’s Prada. She wasn’t the sharpest student and tended to eye Lucifer more like a party favor than a professor, much to his paranoia about accidentally mojoing most of the class, but she had excellent taste. Great wardrobe, really.

 

He nodded and kept his hands firmly shoved in his jacket pockets. All he had to do was get through today, damn it.

 

“What don’t you get, pet?”

 

She batted her eyelashes at that but then sighed. “I mean, okay, so Caliban has that speech thingy.”

 

“Soliloquy?”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Dear Dad, spare him the current U.S. educational system. Poor Will would be appalled.

 

“Anyway, you mean that you’re confused about what he said in the first act?” Lucifer prodded.

 

“Yeah. Miranda and Prospero came to the island, helped him learn English…you know, civilized him. And here he is basically yelling at Miranda and telling her to, like, totally take a hike, right?”

 

Lucifer considered that and forced himself not to stroke his chin. That would not end well. “Why should he be grateful?”

 

“Well, it wasn’t like he had much other stuff going for him on the island?” The redheaded girl with the braids added to the discussion, although she was so shy that she ended her statement like a question, lilting her tone upwards at the end of her statement.

 

“But he was master of himself, had autonomy before Prospero---magic or not---subjugated him. So he learned English, a new way to curse his mistress and master. He still was effectively put in chains.” Lucifer countered, forcing his tone to stay neutral. “Catholic school, Dad save me.”

 

A few of the students snickered. He noticed as he looked out over the crowd that Samuel Donovan was absent. Apparently, he’d done quite the number on the football player, but, honestly, he was glad the lad wasn’t here. He needed some kind of breath while he was here, or Lucifer wouldn’t last the day.

 

“Um, huh? Totally confused now,” The girl in the Prada shrug prodded.

 

“Right then. It’s just if you want to think about slavery even with perks, it’s still servitude at the end of the day. So, here Caliban was able to learn some language and maybe even a few specks of Prospero’s brand of magic. He still was the one cleaning up after and working dawn to dusk for an unappreciative master. Another book you lot will not have read, not that I’m exactly fond of the libelous tome myself, but the line is no less accurate, “ _Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven_. Again, not exactly how it happened, but Milton sums it up better than most in _Paradise Lost_.”

 

A fairly swarthy boy with a lithe frame that definitely told Lucifer he wasn’t a football player---track maybe(?)---frowned back at him. “Double huh?”

 

“ _Paradise Lost_. It’s by John Milton, long allegory about the Biblical Fall. Since this is _St. Mary’s Prep_ , I know you lot have heard that story, probably more than once I’d wager.” Lucifer shrugged. “Caliban and the Devil might have a bit in common. You can either take it forever from others, let them set the rules of your servitude, or try and take life back for yourself.”

 

The redheaded girl frowned again, and her words were so very quiet when she spoke. “But Caliban ends up failing and getting in more trouble than he started with because of a failed revolt.” She blushed scarlet. “I, uh, might have skimmed the _Spark’s Notes_ online to try and understand the first bits better.”

 

“Quite alright, lamb. Context helps even if the language…the old English is unfamiliar,” Lucifer replied.

 

She nodded. “And, well, the Devil ended up ruling sure, but Hell. Where’s the good in that?”

 

The swarthy, lanky boy in the back drummed his fingers on the desk. “Exactly, it’s like sure, you get to rule a place, but it’s a shithole. Where’s the winning in that.”

 

Lucifer stilled and wished he could rub at his temples. He couldn’t get headaches without the Detective around…unless they were psychosomatic, and the stress of the last few days was getting to him. However, he had no idea what the state of his fingernails currently were, just that the tingling sensation had at least abated. He’d have to wait this class out and guzzle a bit of his flask once his break period started.

 

“Language. I’ll let it slip this time because, apparently, for you lot here that’s presidential speech now. However, no swearing even if Mrs. Scott’s away. Next person who utters their favorite four letter word will get an all expenses paid pass to detention. I’m clear on that, right?” He said, feeling like an utter wanker. He was the last person on Earth to instill discipline.

 

Punishment on the guilty sure.

 

He’d never understood the concept of swear words in the first place. What was the bloody point of words you couldn’t say? Not like any of the verboten ones currently could summon a demon or cause great tumult. He’d know.

 

“Sorry, Mr. Petredis,” the boy replied. “Still, the Devil was kind of an idiot. So was Caliban. Sometimes, dude, you shouldn’t buck the system. You don’t win anything if you completely wipe out.”

 

Lucifer offered the class a tight smile, grateful the lesson period was coming to a close. “No, I don’t suppose you do.”

**

 

A few of the girls in the class stayed into the break period. They mostly seemed to be the mean girl patrol that hovered around Miss Designer Shrug of the Day. Bri. Of course, she had a name like Bri. However, after a few failed attempts at, Dad help him, _flirting_ with him, and there were things the Devil would never do. Consent was and had always been his jam. There was no way a sixteen-year-old could give that.

 

Eventually, he was able to convince them to leave, and locked the classroom door after them. Pulling his hands from his jacket pockets for the first time in over two hours, Lucifer let himself slouch down on the lip of his desk. At least his body wasn’t going completely insane. His fingernails weren’t better, but they were still human looking if not a bit too on the nose as part of a Halloween-look. From a distance or kept in his pockets, no one would notice.

 

Ella would, but if he was careful hiding everything when she took off the wire and beat her to Lux…well…demon blades would double well enough as nail files.

 

There were some days when giving his father the grandest of birds had been a bloody brilliant idea. This was not one of them, not when a cadre of spoiled, prep school brats had called the whole decision stupid. Not when his body was rebelling, and he was losing what hold he did have on his consultant job. And, yes, Hell was a shithole. It was why he had taken an eight-year-long vacation and didn’t plan on ever going back as long as he could exploit his deal with Amenadiel and any other loopholes he had.

 

And yet…they’d never been at the mercy of a father like his, never been so utterly rejected. Staying in the Silver City meant lip service to Dad forever, always mindlessly accepting the greater will. Damn it, even praising it to a level only a true narcissist would demand.

 

Lucifer shook his head and shoved his left hand in his jacket pocket. He’d need the other to open the door and to slip out quickly for the next doorknob he needed to open. Milton knew fuck all, ditto the woefully undereducated children around him. They hadn’t met _Dad_. Anything was better than being at his full mercy.

 

Even if Lucifer did become a monster.

 

At least he’d still be better than someone who’d turn his back pretty much forever on his family. Far better than someone who’d set his so-called favorite son up as a scapegoat and send his ex-wife to hell for said son to torment. Bastard.

 

Lucifer slipped out of the classroom and shoved his hand back into his pocket. Skulking down the hall, he made his way to the administration office. Hopefully if he turned on a little charm, he’d be able to get directions to the football coach’s office, probably somewhere in the bowels of the school and near gym anyway. It was more than time to have a talk and get through all the bloody nonsense of a stakeout.

 

Looking over his shoulder, he made sure no students or staff could see him as he quickly moved his right hand out of his jacket and opened the door. He shoved it away again as quickly as he could. A gesture he was sure he’d be repeating until Maze’s blades took care of his problem back at the penthouse. Well, he’d snorted coke off of every conceivable surface and shot up more things than even the Detective knew about, assuming she’d never worked Vice. He was no stranger to furtive movements to hide the obvious away from watchful eyes.

 

See, Hell and, well, Lux were good for some things.

 

The woman sitting behind the desk was young, maybe her early to mid-twenties, with dark skin and eyes the color of coffee. He couldn’t gather much about the hair because she was wearing a head covering, not a nun’s habit. She was a novitiate at best, and that piqued his interest. If life were a bit more sporting of late, he’d definitely have taken his shot seducing her. His habit and collar collection was woefully still too small.

 

She smiled brightly at him, the empty yet lovely expression of those who worked in customer service and then nodded at the man standing over the counter and toward her left. “Brian, I’m sorry. I have to take care of what, uh, Mr. Petredis might need. We do like to help our substitutes.”

 

She elongated the last word a bit more than she had to and Brian, a slim redhead with an attractive smattering of light freckles across his cheeks, grinned as he replied. “Just as well, I have to get the audition space ready for tomorrow. _The Music Man_ is not going to cast itself. We’re still on for drinks tonight, right?”

 

“Always, I need to have some way to relax and Tuesday gab sessions are all I have.” She winked. “Now, go get ‘em.”

 

“I wish,” Brian replied. “What I need are ear plugs.” He passed by Lucifer and gave him an appreciative once over.

 

Yes, if he weren’t having a 101 other issues, Lucifer could have definitely worked with the slight yet charming other man. Damn tail stub. Damn, well, everything.

 

Once Brian was gone, Lucifer leaned over the reception desk and gave the receptionist his best, most seductive smile. “Hello, darling, I’m in need of a small favor.”

 

She giggled coquettishly as most women and some men tended to do with him. “It’s Mary Frances.”

 

He kept the grin planted on his face and tried to soften his sarcastic response as much as he could. It was halfway out of his mouth before he could stop it. “It’s always Mary Something, isn’t it, luv?”

 

“I might have an aunt named Mary Margaret and first cousin named Mary Claire.” She shrugged. “Just another big old family happy in the faith, you know?”

 

His face felt tight, but he pressed on. “I come from one of those myself, Mary Frances.”

 

“You can just call me Frankie. My friends do.”

 

“Then, that sounds nice, Frankie. Love to consider myself most people’s friend. As such, I can usually do my friends some rather fabulous favors. You see, I’ve a need to speak with your head football coach. I found a few things in the files that Mrs. Scott left in her office and I’ve some queries about them.”

 

She sighed and leaned up toward him. Her voice was a low whisper when she spoke. “The principal is the liaison here between the school and the LAPD. I’m her _personal assistant_. Mr. Morningstar, I’m the only one on staff besides Principal Powell who knows who you are.”

 

“Doubt that, pigeon, not all of it.”

 

“I admit, that the irony of your, uh, stage name mixed with the school’s ecumenical side is something else. However, I have a building map we give out to all new staff. I can give that to you. In about twenty minutes, we have a mandatory assembly. We do that weekly just to keep the students up to date on news and school spirit things.”

 

“Have you never heard of a P.A. system?”

 

“It’s supposed to breed school pride if all four hundred students gather as a group weekly. It’s mandatory, and it would raise more questions than supply answers if you don’t go, Mr. Morningstar.”

 

He shrugged. “Frankie, Lucifer is more than fine as a moniker.”

 

She blushed and straightened her novitiate head covering. “I think I’ll stick with just Morningstar. I try not to say the Devil’s name if I can avoid it. Best not to summon the real thing, you know?”

 

His grin grew wider. “Oh darling, you’ve no idea. But a map would be lovely, and I’ll be more than happy to hold my chat with Coach uh?”

 

“Holden, Coach Holden.”

 

“Right until after the assembly, luv.” He waited patiently for her to set the map in front of him and then waited until the phone rang and she turned her chair away from him. Moving with the speed only the devil could muster, he gathered the paper and slid it into his pants pocket. The ones of his jacket were already too stuffed with his hands. “Thank you.”

 

“If you wait about five minutes, I’ll lead you to the assembly. You’re quite the talk of the school, ahem, Mr. _Petredis_. If you don’t mind, I’m sure the students would appreciate being introduced to the newest substitute formerly as long as Mrs. Scott’s on leave.”

 

“Well, I do hope to be done with my end of the investigation in the next day or so. I don’t believe there’s much for the students to get used to.”

 

“But it’s the most interesting thing the school has had in a few weeks, the only good one at least.” He wasn’t sure if Frankie realized she’d licked her lips. “And, again, doing what any substitute would do and keeping your profile low is important, isn’t it?”

 

“You have me there, darling. Lead the way.”

**

On the inevitable day that Lucifer was summoned back to Hell, and if he couldn’t get the devil body issues under a semblance of control that day would come sooner rather than later, he would make a note to revamp some of the loops the demons ran. Granted, the demons exacted punishments on those who were banned from the Silver City per his brother, Gabriel’s, records and, presumably, Dad’s veto (though who knew these days) but didn’t suffer from enough guilt to create their own scenarios. Often but not always the dictators, the serial killers, some of the worst humanity had to offer who could not be suffered to poison the Silver City. However, high school was a circle of hell he’d not envisioned.

 

Oh high school reunions were a popular motif. As was the standard nightmare of reliving time with the bullies of your youth hot on your heels or, even, going in naked to take a test for a class you’d never been in. These things made minor loops, changes in torment when the demons were bored with just popping out eyes or testicles.

 

But none of them had ever sat through an hour long assembly that was basically a mix of information on the who cares bake sale, the scores of the latest baseball games, and calls for volunteering for prom committee. Lucifer wasn’t even allowed to bring out his mobile because “it would have set a bad example for his students.”

 

Dad, seriously?

 

It was the most boring and longest hour of his immortal life, and he’d been more than happy when his introduction had been over and, then, the assembly ended.

 

As he looked out over the crowd of, thankfully, mostly shorter than he was students and faculty, he spotted a man wearing another one of those atrocious letterman’s jackets. As the pot-bellied man with the salt-and-pepper hair turned around, Lucifer spied the words on the back. _Holden._

 

 _Perfect, just need to get him alone and then I can bloody well get this over with_.

 

The coach was halfway down the hallway and past the cafeteria wing when Lucifer maneuvered his way past the barely moving throng of students and neared him. Reaching out, he grabbed the coach with his right hand and froze just a minute when the other man noticed his nails, which were definitely thicker and bordering on claws at this point.

 

Bollocks, could he never catch a break?

 

Lucifer shoved his hand away and offered the coach the same, winning smile he’d given Frankie earlier. “Hullo, there. You’re Coach Holden, aren’t you? I’ve heard ever so much about you. I’m the new substitute, Luke Petredis, and I’ve got Samuel Donovan matriculating in one of the classes I’ve taken over. He mentioned a few things, and I wanted to catch up with you.”

 

Holden narrowed his eyes at him. Lucifer noted how the other man stood taller and drew closer to him. Holden was about Lucifer’s height and, though out of shape, was broader than he was even now. It reminded him a bit of how Cain always insisted on taking up others’ space. If he were human, this would come across as the intimidation it was. But he’d bickered often with the Silver City’s greatest warrior, had a twin brother who was an utter blighter, and had a row about yearly with Hell’s greatest torturer.

 

Lucifer was unimpressed but in no mood to get into fisticuffs.

  
Correction, he was in the mood, but the last thing he wanted was a lecture from the Douche or getting upset enough to sprout leathery wings. With his luck, some of the actual priests on staff would try some half-baked and ineffective exorcism on him.

 

Bloody brilliant.

 

“I heard about you. Sam’s not in today. You seemed to really lean into my player, _intimidate_ him. I don’t know how a piece of shit like you wasn’t shit-canned on the spot.”

 

“He threw a phone at my head, and we talked whilst he was serving detention. But he mentioned a bit about Colin Whitmore’s case. I admit that I’ve also seen some interesting things about other players’ essays and term papers going through Mrs. Scott’s files.”

 

“Beyond the jurisdiction of a sub,” he said, cracking the knuckles on his right hand.

 

Lucifer wanted to roll his eyes, but that would just derail things worse. A complete knucklehead down below like Squee or Dromos could threaten more effectively than this sack of ass. “I pride myself in being rather thorough.”

 

The coach growled out the same insult he’d heard from Samuel Donovan’s lips yesterday, and, well, at least Lucifer knew where the miscreant had gotten that attitude from. Not surprised. Not even just disappointed, just ever so bored. “Play them some fucking _Muzzy_ or whatever. Back off asking question about my team and my boys. We brought home the state trophy for the Catholic league the last three years. We’re going make sure next time my seniors go four for four. Not the place of a _pillow biter_ like you.”

 

Lucifer’s smile turned feral, but he kept himself from letting his eyes burn red. Not here and not now. Not ever with a mortal this beneath his paygrade. “Not an insult, unlike being accosted by a man with no neck and too much of a resemblance to Fred Flintsone. Seriously, man, have you no dignity. Maybe lay off the extra donuts till you have an actual collar measurement for mere mortals again.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Oh, you’d be well beneath my stringent standards, Holden.”

 

The coach inched toward him and looked around to ensure they were alone. “Look,” and he bit out that same, grating insult again. Lucifer was incensed that he’d rattle off such nonsense around kids. Again, not surprised, but just irritated. “…Don’t shove your nose where it doesn’t belong, Mr. Petredis, and we won’t have a problem. The school---the diocese—likes winning. Don’t fuck that up.”

 

“Oh, you’ve no idea how much I live for fucking with the diocese, literally and figuratively,” Lucifer purred. “I’ve never found a fatter lot of hypocrites outside of the actual heavenly host and that figures.”

 

Holden shook his head. “You’re nuts, but you’re a problem. Back off.” He pulled his arm back to hit him, and Lucifer prepared to dodge easily to the side. His reflexes were faster than any human’s. It would be rewarding to watch that Neanderthal break his own hand.

 

Would have been.

 

Except Brian from the office rushed up to both of them and gave Coach Holden a quick pat on the back. “Hey, Greg. I see you and Luke are getting to know each other. Look, I hate to be a pain, but it’s your day for cafeteria duty, and a few of the seniors got into a mashed potato fight. I mean, I could talk to the Principal about how that got out of hand…but there’s still time for you to get it under control, you know?”

 

Holden’s posture was still tight, all coiled like a tiger ready to spring. He sent Lucifer a glare that would have probably scared the average human---it was nothing on even an angel let alone the demons who made up his former abode---but straightened his letterman jacket.

 

“Fine, that’s very helpful, Mr. Valerio. Thank you for the heads up. Mr. Petredis, think about what I’ve said.”

 

Lucifer nodded and kept his hands jammed so deeply in his jacket pockets, he feared they’d tear something. _Can’t do anything; sod’s not worth it and the Douche would yell bloody murder_. “I’ll try not to dwell on it but ta ever so for the initiative.”

 

Holden’s expression was thunderous as he stalked back up the halls, and Lucifer leaned against the wall, glad to avoid a confrontation his hands were tied from really entering into. After a few steady breaths, he eyed Brian Valerio, the cute redhead from the office.

 

“Thanks, Mr. Valerio.”

 

A faint flush colored the other man’s cheeks. If Lucifer weren’t coming off the worst break up he’d ever had with Eve, the complete dissolution of anything ever with Chloe, and having a blasted tail, he’d definitely have invited Brian back to Lux for the night. But, as it was, his life was in free fall. He’d stay to being polite and only slightly flirty for now.

 

It was better if any humans interested in him steered clear anyway; Daniel wasn’t wrong on that point.

 

“Brian. You can call me that.” He rocked back and forth on his heels. “Look, I should tell you Frankie and I have been best friends for about five years, trying to navigate the ins and outs of this place.”

 

“Let me guess. It’s a very special type of Hell on earth, isn’t it?”

 

Brian chuckled. “You know it. I kind of shuffle through because I’m a damn good performing arts teacher, especially theater and chorus, and I basically live under a don’t ask-don’t tell policy. As you can imagine, idiots like Holden don’t exactly embrace a live and let live policy like that. Figured I’d look out of the new guy.”

 

Lucifer grinned at him, assuredly sorry now that this was a dead end. Bloke might have been one of the very few to spend more than just a night in the penthouse. He’d always liked the spirited ones. “That obvious?”

 

“Well, Mr. Morningstar, even if the faculty knew who you really were and your actual reputation, well, you definitely don’t come across as a shrinking violet.”

 

He frowned. “What?”

 

“That’s what I was getting at. Frankie tells me everything. Since her boss knows about the LAPD thing.” Brian whispered that last part sotto voce. “I heard about it too this weekend. Look, Colin was a great student, had a future if he’d wanted in concert band. He was such a good violinist, he lapped what I could teach him by the middle of freshman year, and I got him enrolled in a special program with one of the best conservatories in Southern California. I want whoever specifically hazed him to death on the football team to pay so what I know, you know, Lucifer.”

 

He adjusted the onyx ring on his finger. The Douche was probably going to have a coronary since two more people than just the principal knew about the sting, two more loose lips to sink ships and all that. Still, Brian was trying to help, and Lucifer knew it wasn’t a lie. Another advantage of infernal gifts.

 

Or curses, depended on your perspective.

 

“Thank you,” he said. “I have a feeling getting the coach to talk would be more difficult than I assumed.”

 

“Depends on how badly you want a bloody lip.”

 

“I’m not worried about that part as much as holding back.”

 

Brian eyed him and whistled. “I guess, but yeah I can tell you what I’ve noticed with the football students tomorrow at lunch if you’re amenable. That would be something we could do in my classroom, out of the range of Neanderthals trying to beat the shit out of the new teacher.”

 

“Would he try again? Not that it doesn’t sound fun…”

 

“Diocese looks away on most things and winning is winning.”

 

Lucifer sneered at that. “Holden reminds me of some of my shittier brothers. Might makes right and all that. Anyway, Brian, sounds lovely. I could use all the friends inside _St. Mary’s_ that I can get.”

 

The other man shrugged and looked down at his loafers. Now Lucifer’s internal lie detector was pinging. Interesting.

 

“Okay, so I’m not but so altruistic, Lucifer. I might have a _quid pro quo_ in mind.”

 

Lucifer laughed, long and hard, and people said he was the one always offering temptation. Not that he wasn’t, but he definitely was on the receiving end of it often as well. “I’m flattered, and I normally would in less than a heartbeat, but I have had a terrible break up of late and, trust me, I’m beyond damaged goods.”

 

He winced a little internally, knowing full well Ella and Daniel both could hear this.

 

 _Bloody perfect_.

 

Brian’s cheeks were beyond fire engine red at this point. “No, I…well…I have eyeballs, Lucifer, and I’ve been to Lux more than once back when I was just graduating college. I mean six years ago, I’d so have said yes, but I’m seeing someone.”

 

“Lucky man.”

 

Brian smiled genuinely. “Oh, I am the lucky one there. Anyway, no. It might be a bit more sinister than that.”

 

“Do tell.”

 

“Well, I help you with the football case and, maybe, you help me over your free period the next couple of days with auditions for the spring play. It’s kind of a lonely nightmare and someone with your ear might be helpful making decisions.”

 

Lucifer groaned. “You do have some students with talent, correct?”

 

“Fewer than I’d like. Besides, Mr. Morningstar, doesn’t misery love company?”

 

He sighed and nodded his assent. “For Colin Whitmore, I’ll do it, even if the bloody lot of your students have tin ears.”

 

“Great! We have auditions tomorrow at eleven.” With that, Brian strode off.

 

Lucifer sighed and, now alone, felt comfortable enough to pinch the bridge of his nose. “ _Dad_ , sometimes I hope you haven’t just poofed off to a new universe or experiment or whatever. If I’m this miserable, at least someone should get their jollies out watching the show, am I right?”

 

As always, there was no answer.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael, Ella, and Lucifer eat Chinese and pore over the texts from the Silver City.

**Chapter Seventeen**

While Azrael hadn’t spoken with her brother since about a year ago last spring and now because of the great tail debacle, she had popped in on him from time to time over the centuries and his so-called vacations to Earth. Granted, not often because even if she could be at multiple places at once, she was terminally busy angel who was split across so many locations all at once. Also, when she checked in on her brother, she stayed either off to the shadows, as when she’d stopped into Lux or made herself invisible even to him.

 

She’d also learned never to just pop in on him unless it was a public place and that only garnered a fifty-fifty chance of not catching the Devil in the middle of more sex acts than the Kama Sutra listed. Still, she’d spied her brother over the millennium, at the least, it was how she’d known that Ella would be a good fit for him, just her general openness and kindness. Dear Dad, not as a hook-up, and she’d probably been lucky that Lu hadn’t followed his usual instincts and done _that_ , yeesh.

 

However, he’d had a variety of looks over the years. She personally wished she’d owned a polaroid in the ‘70s because his Saturday Night Fever outfit was pretty funny in retrospect. Oh, the missed opportunities with that one. So, when she popped into the penthouse loaded down with tomes from the Silver City library---and boy had she needed to lie her ass off to Gabriel when he’d caught her skulking around there---Azrael hadn’t exactly been surprised to see Lu’s change of pace, wardrobe wise. More like amused.

 

Setting the stack of very heavy, seriously Lu owed her, books on the coffee table by his sofa, she smirked up at her brother. He was leaning over the bar, decked out like he was going to audition to play a stodgy librarian or professor in a movie set in about 1968 complete with huge glasses, and wielding one of Mazikeen’s blades.

 

Once she caught sight of the demon blade, the smile fell from Azrael’s lips. “Shit, Lu, what’s back now?”

 

He glared at her but set his left hand on the bar. As Azrael neared him, she spied the long nails on that hand. Looking down, she noticed the variety of clippings---however he’d managed it with such a large blade safely---under his stool. The nails were long and thickened, coming to sharp points at least an inch about his fingertips.

 

Her big brother went back to ignoring her as he turned Mazikeen’s blade to its side and used it to file slowly at his thumbnail. “No tail. The bump still hurts, but I don’t think it’s any worse.” He shrugged his shoulders before continuing. “This isn’t exactly new either. It’s been worse, and, at least, Maze’s blade takes care of it well enough. Takes more time than I’d like to get through the sodding things, but I was much worse off a half hour ago with them on both hands.”

 

Azrael bit her lower lip, not sure exactly what to say. Lu was blowing most everything off with this whole situation. While she appreciated him trying not to worry her, especially after the rocky history they’d shared lately, Azrael didn’t think the denial was helping him. She was already glamouring him to hide the nascent spike on his back. Clearly, the slips and changes were getting for frequent and worse, not better. Of course, he clearly knew that. Maybe if she just opted for trying to stay hopeful---maybe something a bit unexpected from the Angel of Death but you couldn’t be a downer all the time---they’d get through this impromptu study session, find something in one of the ancient books, and Lu could put this whole self-actualization, body issues drama behind him.

 

She hoped.

 

“Do you need help?” she offered. “I mean, Ella’s supposed to be here soon, but I have done nails before.”

 

He smirked at her. “It’s cute you think I haven’t. I did visit Earth more than once in the seventies. Glam rock really was something special,” he replied. “However, Maze’s blade is treacherous and does quite a number on Celestial flesh. Someone stealing it almost killed Amenadiel, and I’ve had a slice from it myself courtesy of that clod, Cain. I’d rather do this myself in case I slip than hand it off to you and you accidentally get swiped. It’s not pleasant.”

 

She rolled her eyes and took off her glasses to clean them. “That’s what I assumed about demon blades. If they just tickled, what would be the point? Dude, I’ll have better control!”

 

Lu ignored her and started in on his left pointer finger. “I’ve not grown actual claws today---don’t ask---so this is far better than it could be. Three more after this and right as rain and all that.”

 

She hopped up onto a stool, and, seriously Dad, why did He make so many of the girl angels short? She wished she’d gotten Mom’s statuesque side. Whoever would have thought of the Angel of Death struggling onto a bar stool, anyway? Again, she resented Michael, Amenadiel and Lucifer among others for being so tall.

 

“You’re stubborn.”

 

“Clearly a family trait. I don’t know a single member of the host who is easy going by nature.” He frowned. “I’ve heard Duma has mellowed, but I wouldn’t wish the _how_ of that on anyone. But, no, by nature, none of us are yielding. Maybe that’s our problem.”

 

“I could help.”

 

He moved onto his middle finger. It was probably a sign of his own distress and preoccupation with his nail problem that he didn’t take the opening as a chance to show off that digit to her. “I don’t want you cut.”

 

“You know,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “If us having a better relationship---”

 

“You mean the kind where we actually speak with each other and see each other in person?” His words were cutting but his tone soft and a twinkle in his brown eyes as he said it. It was an acknowledgement that he’d made mistakes on his end of things too.

  
That mattered.

 

“Right, but if now that we’re trying to be siblings for realz again.”

  
“Oh Azrael, must you talk like a Valley girl?”  


“Only kind of, and don’t even get me started on affected accents.” She winked at him. “But you don’t have to protect me from everything. I’m not young anymore.”

 

He finished his efforts by going in for his pinkie nail. “I’ve got a few thousand years on you, so you’re still little to me.” Lucifer finished finally and set the blade down before heading behind the bar to grab a dustpan, brush, and a mini garbage can. As she watched, he straightened everything up, all the debris around the legs of his stool and then snuck the trashcan behind the bar again. Holding up his hands and smirking at her, he added, “See, good as new.”

 

She snorted. “Don’t baby me. I can handle Mazikeen’s great and terrible blade. I happen to know my way around those…although I don’t like my new one as well as I did the one Uriel stole. I swear, what a weasel.”

 

Lu paled at that. “About our brother…”

 

“Everyone in the Silver City heard how it went down. I…Mom was in Hell, but I think we both know Dad doesn’t have the best reasons for that sometimes.”

 

“Ever.”

 

She bit her lip on that. The Rebellion had ended so very badly. Then Mom had started soon after sending floods, fires, and earthquakes to destroy the Earth. Lucifer might have been naïve in thinking he could change the way the Silver City was run. Seriously, and he thought _Dad_ had an ego. Still, Mom had gone around trying to destroy a whole planet and murder humans. Granted, taking care of the dead ones was Azrael’s job, but she’d never actively wished them ill. Interacting with the newly dead ones, honestly, made her feel badly for most of them. If they were lucky, they got maybe a century, and back in the days of plagues and Mom’s wrath maybe fifty years. A blink to a Celestial, not even that. Sending Mom away to protect them and to keep what was left of peace in the Silver City made some sense.

 

A horrible kind at least.

 

But she didn’t want her mother dead, and she didn’t think Uriel’s plan to kill using technicalities was anything but evil where Chloe Decker was concerned. It just hurt. Why did every choice in her family seem to come with blood, damnation, or death? Why couldn’t they ever just talk things out like sometimes humans at least managed to?

 

“Sis?”

 

“Yeah, I just…” she tried to regain her footing. “Uriel made the terrible choices first. You saved Mom.”

 

“Kind of,” he replied, not meeting her gaze. “Might have used the flaming sword---way to give a guy a heads’ up that your blade is or was a lot more than it looked---and gave Mum her own universe. It’s been a while now, and I hope she’s started over fresh and well without Dad to muck it up. I…she did everything wrong. She was cold and cruel and never did understand the value of human life, even after Amenadiel and I tried to teach it to her, but I think she really did love her children and missed them. She just couldn’t be allowed back in the Silver City ever.” He sighed and pushed his fake glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “I hope she’s started a good world of her own, one where Dad’s not stealing everything out from under her.”

 

Azrael nodded. “Uh, so my original blade?”  


“Mum needed any extra help she could get in her new place. She has it now. Not exactly a way to cut back through universes and get it back.”

 

“Well, she probably needs it more than I do,” Azrael admitted. She pulled out her current blade, which was nice and all, but still didn’t feel as on balance as the first one. Then again, she’d had billions of years to get used to the other blade. She’d merely had two to break in the new one. “I feel like I’ve missed a lot, even just popping in randomly at the corner of Lux.”

  
Lu finally met her eyes. “Honestly, things were a lot less complicated before my consultant job. When you’re merely drinking, shagging, and enjoying more than just the Devil’s threesome by night, well, problems don’t follow you. Start actually interacting with the humans too much…”

 

She nodded, thinking of how much she’d impacted just Ella’s life. “And it gets way complicated even if it’s just the one.”

 

“I think even Amenadiel would agree with that. Earth is complex, and it’s a beautiful thing, but it can also drag you down as well.”

 

Without thinking, Azrael reached up to touch the spot between his shoulders that she’d hidden away. Her brother was fast and snaked away from her touch before she could make contact with his back. “I’m sorry things have been crappy for you lately.”

 

He laughed. “Azrael, it’s been ‘crappy’ for a very long time. My friends, even as badly as things fell apart with the Detective, they make it better.” He sighed again. “Hiccups aside.”

 

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Ella said, as she entered the apartment. She was loaded down with the food, a few bags of Chinese food---Azrael could smell it from here and her mouth was watering---and had a six pack in her other hand. “Devil hiccups?”

 

“Flare-ups sounded too clinical,” he replied, winking at their new arrival. “ _Cariña_ , be still my heart, you brought the Kung Pao Chicken from _Chang’s_ ; they do it spicy enough to almost make me sweat.” He took the bag from Ella but frowned at the six pack. “That’s swill.”  


Ella rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. Top shelf is nice, but sometimes a girl just wants a Corona.” She strolled over to the couch and set the beer on the other edge of the coffee table, as far from the tomes from the Silver City as possible. Then, she flopped onto the sofa. “Back me up here, Rae Rae.” She frowned, thinking better of it. “Wait, have you had beer? I keep thinking of you like a ghost, so I always thought of you as not an eater or drinker. But I guess since Lucifer drinks more than most frat guys on a Friday night…”

 

“Guilty as charged but not beer from a convenience store,” her brother practically sniffed that last part.

 

Rae Rae shrugged. “I do eat. Celestials eventually have to, though we can go a lot longer without it, get a lot of energy from our own inner light and it’s complicated. But we need the basic stuff: water, food, sleep. If we go long enough without it, we go pretty bonkers.”

 

Ella gulped. “Good idea not to push it then. Well, you can enjoy some swill with me.”

 

“I was gonna just do a Coke, to be honest,” Azrael replied before sitting down next to Ella on the sofa. “But I’ll eat whatever you brought.”

 

“The chicken is mine,” her brother sulked. She hadn’t always missed Lu’s drama queen tendencies, even if she’d missed him.

 

“Fine, what else did you bring, Lopez?”

 

Ella offered her a tight smile but dug into the bag. “I got the sweet and sour pork for me, but I also picked up some lo mein and some moo goo gai pan, too. Tons of extra fried rice and egg rolls for everyone.” She poked at Lucifer’s knee with her foot from her point on the sofa. “Swill goes the best with egg rolls.”

 

“Philistines.  I’m surrounded by them.”

 

“Whatever, Lu,” Azrael replied, picking up the fried rice and digging into it with her chopsticks. “Now, who’s ready for mind-numbing research. Dad, I almost wish Amenadiel were here, he was always best at it.”

  
Lucifer sighed. “Charlie keeps him busy, and I just…if I can get this problem fixed without him knowing about it, then I’d frankly prefer it. I’m unclear if Linda ever even told him about it the first time it happened.” He pulled out a flask from his tweed jacket pocket and took a long draught. “Now, let the boredom commence.”

**

 

Lucifer was smart, but he was smart in a very different way than Ella with her love of all things science or Amenadiel with his quiet dedication to scholarly work. Maybe it came from being born with the literal gift of gab and being able to _speak_ every language, but Lucifer had never been one for the written side of it and the translating. He also was the type of cunning that revolved more around street smarts, as the humans called it, analyzing motives and people, and knowing when things didn’t quite add up or pass the smell test. He was also just clever enough to get himself into trouble by asking far too many questions, but not always bright enough (pun intended) to get himself back out of the messes he created.

 

A whole new plane of being down below existed just because of Lucifer’s restless intelligence.

 

That said, as the night wore on and they poured over the ancient Enochian---a written version of a dialect that had fallen out of favor before she’d even been created---in the books, Lucifer’s own tendency toward distraction and impatience seemed to be getting the better of him. He’d curled up at the bar and, as Azrael had worriedly noted, made his way into his second handle of Scotch. They might not be able to get drunk without a ridiculous amount of alcohol in their systems, but it still worried her how much he reached for and how frequently he did it. Currently, he was leafing through one of the books, but he hadn’t turned the current page in close to half an hour. She wasn’t sure he was absorbing everything.

 

She was struggling herself, trying to understand the passages in the book she’d picked. She read Enochian but newer incarnations. The difference between the dialects was enough that things seemed a bit off. Besides, it wasn’t like Dad or Gabriel or Raphael…whoever had taken the time to write the bulk of these…had left an index in the back. There certainly wasn’t a “turn to page 364 in case of body changing issues.”

 

To her left, Ella was typing away furiously at her laptop. She’d brought her computer with her in her backpack, and after the first hour where Azrael had painstakingly explained the basics of the language, the equivalent translation of the symbols, Ella had booted up a program and started inputting everything into it by hand. It was sort of like an electronic Rosetta Stone where she would type in or scan in cell phone photos of the passages in the book she’d taken to study. Azrael wasn’t sure that computer decoding could help, but maybe Ella would get further than she or Lu had.

 

Right now, she was reading through an account of the proper protocol for morning worship in the Silver City after Seraph led hymns. Riveting.

 

Also, _Castiel_ , nowhere did it say that singing had to last close to two hours. Like at all.

 

Even if Lucifer did that every morning, if he were still allowed in the Silver City, that would have been a bit much, but Cas wasn’t half as talented. When she was home, those were long mornings getting through the hymns.

 

Too long.

 

It had been close to six hours of working between them, and it didn’t feel like _any_ of them had hit anything that even came close to the manual side of “how angels work.” Again, not that she expected self-actualization to be listed by any term close to that. It was a human-sounding concept, something Amenadiel had coined probably from spending too much time with Linda Martin. However, she hadn’t found anything about guilt or self image or body changes at all. Ella and Lucifer must not have either, or they’d have said something.

 

Scratch that.

 

Judging by her brother’s additional swig of alcohol as well as the way his right leg was twitching with his impatience, Azrael was sure Lucifer hadn’t found anything.

 

She let her head flop back against the cushions of the sofa and groaned. “This was not what I was hoping for.”

 

Also, they were finally out of egg rolls. Ella had brought over a dozen but stressed out angels ate a lot.

 

Lu set his book down and turned around on his stool to regard them both with tired eyes. “It’s getting on towards one a.m., and it’s doubtful any of these books were ever going to be helpful. A long shot at best. I don’t suppose any of our siblings, when you’ve visited the Silver City, have ever mentioned problems like mine or Amenadiel’s? Anyone else maybe wearing glasses suddenly?”

 

Azrael adjusted her own and glared. “I don’t know if that’s exactly my problem…never mind. No. I don’t get back home as much as I’d like, but I’d never heard of anything like this until the tail sitch.”

 

Lucifer grimaced. “Hell doesn’t have books or resources; besides _this_ wasn’t part of any infernal plan. We don’t really have those beyond whichever demon in middle management doles out eye popping duty or bamboo shoots under the nails schedules. Dad’s not been around in decades, but I suppose his own private notes or collection…if he even has one…wouldn’t be something you could access, Azrael.”

 

Ella’s eyes lit up as she looked up from her laptop for the first time in hours. “You can get the Big Guy’s blueprints?”

 

“I doubt Dad has those. I feel he’s an ‘in his head’ inventor,” Azrael offered. “I just…these books weren’t easy to get. Gabriel had a stick up his butt about me even borrowing them for the night.”  


“See,” Lucifer said throwing both hands out wide and almost falling off the stool with the motion. “Welcome to the Silver City, nothing ever changes. Gabriel’s a micromanaging pillock still. Shock! What else is new?”

 

Azrael sighed.

 

She wasn’t a fan of Gabriel either. He’d basically assumed the lead in heaven with their Father gone, Amenadiel left for earth, and Raphael…well, the less she even thought about Raphael the better. Lu was already too suspicious about that. Well, Michael was in charge along with Gabriel too, but the only thing that set Lucifer off more than talk of Dad or Gabe was about his twin. Still, the Silver City had housed the bulk of the heavenly host and now billions of human souls. Someone had to keep it running, and, totally, Gabe was about as fun as humans said dentistry was, but he did keep Heaven in working order.

 

“He’s very obsessive,” she conceded. “Still, the books have to have some value to them, something that really shouldn’t leave Heaven for long if Gabriel was so insistent I keep them no longer than twenty-four hours.”

 

Lu sneered. “Well, if divine intervention would help us skip to the devil bits sections that would be lovely.”

 

Beside her, Ella’s laptop gave a loud ding and her friend shouted excitedly in Spanish. “ _Genial_! This was exactly what I was hoping for.”

 

His curiosity outweighing his apparent annoyance, Lucifer slid down from the stool and sauntered toward them. He sat down on the sofa on the other side of Ella and leaned over her laptop screen. “Care to share with the rest of the class, _hermanita_?”

 

Azrael frowned and glanced at the screen too, which was currently spitting out a few verses in English on its bottom right corner. Above, in glowing blue script were highlighted Enochian sigils from Ella’s uploaded cellphone pics. “Yeah, what is that?”

 

“It’s rough but it’s an algorithm. I based it on some of the pattern recognition software we use at work for ferreting out fingerprints, actually. Understanding patterns and the likelihood they fit together. I started with the phrases and matching Enochian script that Azrael helped feed me for the first two hours and let the computer teach itself by practicing on pages I took photos of an uploaded. It’s been ‘reading’ through the first eighty pages of _A History_ \---Big Guy needs better titles.”

 

“Dad needs better everything period,” Lu grumbled, more out of habit than actual ire.

 

“But,” Ella continued. “I also made sure to cross-reference it with key words, once Azrael told me their Enochian equivalent. So, things like ‘body,’ ‘control,’ and ‘change.’ You get the idea.”

 

“And?” Lu asked, his brow deeply furrowed in concentration.

 

“And bingo! We have a passage that totally applies to the angel self-actualization design. Although, here I guess the closest word for the process is something like ‘timoria.’ Does that sound familiar?” Ella wrinkled up her nose and looked between them both.

 

Lucifer gritted his teeth, a thick cord of muscle tensing in his jaw and neck. He had to take a few deep breaths before he spoke. He repeated the word, this time adding the correct inflections that Ella’s human tongue couldn’t hope to hit. “ _Timoria_ means punishment, although it’s more than that. Dad’s thought about punishment---not shocking for someone who designed Hell I know---quite a bit. _Timoria_ is specifically a flavor that indicates ‘well-deserved’ or ‘earned’ as opposed to any chance of excessive or accidental punishment. That’s _vazo,_ instead.

 

Azrael nodded. “He’s not wrong.”

 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Lucifer replied, winking at her, even if the humor didn’t bleed into his soulful, brown eyes.

 

“Okay, so following.” Ella said, nodding and her ponytail bounced ferociously as she did. “Anyway, looks like this passage might match on what you’re looking for, at least I think so, one of the words didn’t translate so I guess I couldn’t find the quite right equivalent from what I fed it so far, but maybe you or Lucifer just know it? Anyhoo,” she turned gestured to the read out and Lucifer read it.

 

Not that Azrael would admit it out loud, but it did sound more impressive hearing the translation with a British accent.

 

“Punishment cannot be accepted as rendered from on high. It is best when meted out by the self because only the self knows and understands what truly burns the most. The offending Celestial knows their heart better even than their wise Father does---oh of course he’d add that extra bit about how sodding smart he is,” Lucifer editorialized.

 

“Lu, focus!” Azrael snapped.

 

“…for that reason, when an angel has Fallen or strayed, they will be their own wardens and pick their own pains. Thus, will their punishment fit the original crime in a way only the sinner can fully render. And, as following, the duration of the sentence shall lie within that Celestial’s own heart and control…” Lucifer sighed. “And nothing we didn’t already know, just took more fancy words to say it.”

 

“Come on. There has to be something,” Azrael pushed. “That one word there, even I don’t know so it has to be the old dialect. What’s the end say?”

 

“Each Celestial does not operate alone but in concert with their brothers and sisters. The host is to be preserved at all cost over the crimes and struggles of the few. For the end of punishment to be acknowledged, for the changes wrought to be undone, _apodochí_ will serve as the only way through,” her brother concluded.

 

Lucifer leaned back on the sofa and raked a hand through his hair, sending it standing on end everywhere. “Well, that bloody doesn’t help.” He stood and started to pace, moving with lithe steps but ones so fast and agitated, Azrael genuinely wondered if Ella could even follow the movement.

 

“Lucifer, I don’t get it.” Ella frowned and set her laptop on the table. “If it’s about this _apodo-_ thing, then if you know what that is, then you should be able to fix it, right? I mean, is it something you can get?”

 

Lucifer stopped just long enough to reply before starting back to his relentless pacing again. “No because _apodochí_ is the old Enochian for ‘acceptance.’ As far as I can tell from the context, it means that as long as I _accept becoming a monster_ , then I can control it. I’m sodding well not ready to give up like that.”

 

Ella hopped to her feet and reached up to touch him. She managed to have the worst aim and land a palm directly against the space between his shoulder blades, that raw spot and nascent spike that was hidden but still ached. Azrael’s glamour couldn’t change how it felt _to Lucifer_ , just how a human would perceive and interact with the spike.

 

Her brother’s reaction was instantaneous. He stumbled to one knee and drew in a strained breath. “Bollocks.”

 

Ella knelt down beside him, worry etched on her face. “Is the spot back? It looked great this morning so I don’t understand.”

 

Lucifer shot Azrael a panicked look. She got to her feet and collected Ella up, steering her away from Lu and toward the bar. “Hey, Ella let’s just…” she started, feeling like she was fumbling harder than even her usual to tap dance around the truth for Ella. Just substitute “Lu is fine, mostly” for “no really ghost rules,” and it was all very same song, different verse.

 

Her friend froze in her arms. “I don’t…Lucifer you didn’t lie, did you? The pain isn’t worse again, is it?”

 

“It still burns, _cariña_.” Lucifer slumped down in his armchair and gripped the arms so tightly the leather popped and tore. “It is too much to bear sometimes. Apparently, Dad’s Catch-22 torture plan only works if you accept His will, something that I’ve never been good at doing. Something, I’ve not done in eons, in point of fact. I can’t accept this because I refuse to be a monster, but I can’t stop being a monster until I accept that’s what I am. It’s a bloody trap, and I should have _known_ that because that’s all Dad ever does.”

 

Azrael frowned and concentrated on her brother. “But Amenadiel Fell, became mortal clearly because here’s Charlie, and he undid it.”

 

“Because he accepted it as Father’s test and was only able to call forth his powers when accepting he was as low, messed up, and lost as dear Charlotte.” Lucifer shook his head. “I’m different.” He snorted bitterly. “When aren’t I? I don’t accept this as Father’s test---I can’t---because it’s not fair. It’s not a test; it’s torture, and I’ll never be able to see a difference.”

 

Ella took a few steps toward him but hesitated, worrying her lower lip. “Look, I’m not a fan of the Big Guy at all lately. You know I haven’t been since Pierce murdered Charlotte. I think he just makes up games on games for all of you, and that sucks, but if you at least try and work on the accepting thing…talk to Linda about it, let her know what’s happening. I mean, that’s what a therapist is for, right?”

 

Lucifer glared at them both and Azrael swallowed, hard. She knew that glare, had seen it when her brother had been younger and talked too brazenly about overthrowing the way the Silver City ran. She couldn’t see his eyes flame---as rumor went (Azrael had never seen it for herself)---but she could see the anger and zeal in them. She and Ella weren’t looking completely at her brother and Ella’s good friend, Lucifer, anymore. They were spying the wrath of the _Devil_. And that was a place to tread carefully.

 

Even if you were already the Angel of Death.

 

“She’s my erstwhile sister-in-law. I can’t show her. I can’t tell her.”

 

“Why not? It’s not so bad!” Ella countered.

 

Azrael reached out and grabbed Ella by the elbow, dragging the scientist a half step closer to her. “Ella, hey, it’s past one now, and you have work, you know? Lucifer has to be back at _St. Mary’s_ in six hours. There will be a typhoon or an earthquake or a plane crash soon, cause there’s always something bad for humans. No offense.”

 

“Uh, none taken, dude,” Ella replied.

 

“So, we gave it six hours. Let’s reconvene in a couple days, after the sting at _St. Mary’s_ is over. It’s not the only book. I’ll take pics of what we have before I return it and we can go from there afterwards. Maybe it’s not the last word, you know?”

 

Lu eyed her, and she knew that look too, that resignation. Both of them knew Dad well enough to know that He was nothing but _final words_. Her father had invented edicts. Had invented everything and, at the end of the day, if God—capital G---ruled it so, then there was nothing that could be done about that. If there were any way out, any loopholes, then they would be listed in the tomes. Besides, Dad definitely wasn’t big on those. He was a huge fan of punishment that stuck. Lu knew that better than anyone.

 

But what was happening to Lucifer was anything but fair.

 

“Yes, Azrael. It would be best if you came back later. You too, Ella. I’ll be fine. I need a shower and rest, and then I’ll be ready for whatever comes in the morning. Besides,” he said, giving her another nod. “Azrael has a point about other resources. We won’t solve everything tonight, but we made progress, and I owe a lot of that to you, _hermanita_. See you at the van in the morning?”

 

“Not if your shoulder bump is back and hurting. Lucifer, I don’t want to come off sounding just like Chloe, but I am worried and---”

 

Both arms of the chair snapped in half, and her brother’s voice was lower than usual, felt almost like it was everywhere at once, deep and resonating in her bones. Ella, bless her, had blundered into poking the actual Devil territory. “I’m not a bloody child, Ella!”

 

 

Their friend yipped and stumbled back until she collided with Azrael. It was easy enough---even if she were one of the least coordinated of the host---to stay standing and steady Ella instead. She was more adroit than a human, after all.

 

“Lucifer…I didn’t mean…”

 

Lu, for his part, looked more shocked than Ella. He glanced down at the remains of his chair and stood slowly, holding out his palms toward Ella, but he didn’t dare move toward either of them. “Ella…Miss Lopez, I apologize for such an outburst. I should not have done that.”

 

Ella nodded, her ponytail flying all over the place with such a ferocious effort. “Lucifer, I…I know…” her voice was shaking then. “Rae-Rae’s right. We hit this in a few days. If you think you can get that coach to talk tomorrow, great. I have to do some case prep for something Chloe’s working on that goes to trial Thursday so another tech will be with you and Dan. I told him to be on his best behavior, you know? I…hey Rae-Rae, I don’t know if there are like ‘Angel Rules’ like ghost ones…heh…but I don’t think I could drive home right now. Uh, too much Corona.”

 

Lucifer’s face fell, but Azrael kept her cool as much as she could. All three of them knew that drinking wasn’t why Ella couldn’t drive. She was _scared_ , and judging from Lu’s crestfallen expression, this was the first time Ella had ever been scared _of him_.

 

Azrael kept her eyes on her brother, begging him to understand that she’d handle it, that she could patch back over the mistake he’d made. Ella was a tough human, after all. She could deal with this. She’d dealt with everything else, hadn’t she?

 

“That’s fine. There are no ‘transporting humans is bad’ rules. Plus, hey bonus, stronger than I look so you can hop aboard the angel express.” She nodded toward Lu. “We’ll fix this. We just got started. If there’s not massive natural disaster or something, I’ll try and be back around here by Saturday, okay? Give you time to catch your bad guy, and we’ll stay on this. Promise.”

 

Lucifer swallowed but his eyes were already distant. When he spoke, his voice had lost its normal confidence and playfulness. He sounded as old as he was. “Thank you, thank _both_ of you.”

 

Ella nodded again, and, clearly, her friend was on autopilot while her lizard brain was working through fear of the Devil. Dear Dad, she and Lu both would have to make sure Ella never saw more than this. The full devil thing---which even _Azrael_ had never come close to seeing----must have been something, especially for humans. Just hearing Lu’s voice, usually so gentle, lowered into a growl had been terrifying.

 

Even to her.

 

“That sounds good, Lucifer. I…I’m okay. Everything’s okay,” Ella muttered.

 

Azrael didn’t know how Ella had bumbled exactly into the exact wrong thing to say, but she knew her brother very well, despite their estrangement. The moment Ella blurted those words out, the light died completely from Lu’s eyes.

 

He offered Ella a small, broken smile but didn’t dare step closer to her. “I’m glad for that.”

 

“So, Saturday?” Azrael said, holding out her arms so that she could swoop her friend up into a bridal-style carry. They were too close in height for anything else to work, but Azrael, like any Celestial was far stronger than she appeared. As Ella cradled in close, Azrael unfurled her wings. “We got this; I swear.”

 

Lu nodded. “If the Angel of Death has decreed it, then it must be so.” With that, he slumped back into his seat. He didn’t acknowledge them further as she beat her wings. Then, Azrael took off into the night and toward Ella’s apartment, all while trying to ignore the fluttering of her own, troubled heart.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rae Rae tries to smooth things over with Ella after flying her home.

**Chapter Eighteen**

Ella couldn’t stop shaking. Even after Rae Rae set her down, she ended up stumbling to her loveseat and collapsing into it. Over her shoulder her friend, the fucking Angel of Death, was talking a mile a minute. It was something Ella never usually minded. God knew that she talked enough on her own. Together, they’d always been chatterboxes with each other. Always in her room late at night or, when she was older, chilling in the basement once most of her brothers had moved out of the house. If she couldn’t fill the dead space in the conversation, then Rae Rae always could. But now, it filtered through Ella’s ears like white noise, like the buzz of static from a radio out of tune.

 

Because she hadn’t really seen anything different than she had since Wednesday almost a week ago now.

 

Her friend Rae Rae had wings and she’d been shown them for the first time, which wasn’t overwhelming although the divine probably should be. However, they seemed familiar and maybe she’d glimpsed them during the car accident long ago and forgotten. Flying back wasn’t the shock; it was the blessing cause she couldn’t drive.

 

“Hey! Ella, focus,” Rae Rae called, handing her a glass of water.

 

Ella tried to take it and did manage to wrap her weak fingers around. Still, her arms shook so badly that the water spilled over her knees and onto her wrist. “I can’t.”

 

“You’ll feel better if you get something in you that’s not Corona or tons of sweet and sour sauce. I mean, I think so? When I catch TV and someone’s sick like that they get cold water to drink.” Rae Rae blanched. “I mean, you’re not pregnant so we don’t need boiling water and hot towels. I saw that on TV a few times too.”

 

The glass finally slipped from her hand and would have crashed to the ground in a splinter of glass if Rae Rae hadn’t appeared beside her. She could have sworn that the angel had been behind her and back to fiddling in the kitchen. When Ella glanced around, she watched---her mouth frozen open---as the Rae Rae beside her set the glass on her scuffed coffee table and then faded into nothingness. Even as at the same time, the Rae Rae at the small alcove that comprised her galley kitchen waved at her.

 

“The Angel of Death has to be in a lot of places. I can double up.” Rae Rae sighed and took off her glasses long enough to clean them on her kitten t-shirt. “Look, I know today was really different for you…for any human and---”

 

“Do you though?” She asked, her voice shaking almost as much as her hands still were. “I am trying really hard here, Rae Rae, and I thought I got it. I totally did, as much as ‘oh hi, it’s really all real and you don’t need faith anymore’ could be. Or, you know, that my two best friends were the Devil and the Angel of Death.”

 

Rae Rae slipped her glasses on her nose and frowned. “Dude, if I were the Angel of Morning worship like my brother Castiel or the Angel of the Hunt like my big sis, Remy, would it be less intimidating?”

 

“Wait, there’s an Angel of the Hunt?”

 

“Well, there used to be a lot more on Amenadiel’s shoulders before he was mostly put in charge of riding herd on Lu? So like, he used to be in charge of tracking down any rogue demons or problems of a Celestial nature but, uh, after the Rebellion Dad stuck him on making sure Lu didn’t take too long a vacation on Earth. Then, Remiel, who Amenadiel trained---and I know all the ‘el’ stuff can get somewhat confusing---anyhoo, she’s the one in charge of hunting down rogue demons or demigod problems.”

 

Ella blinked and her mind kept trying to fill in everything. “So, does Lucifer take like eight year long vacations a lot?”

 

“Too long a story for now. Long story super short from what I’ve gathered from Amenadiel, Lu had some leverage this time and Amenadiel got to liking Earth too. But, I mean, I get the ‘of death’ part _sounds_ bad.”

 

“It’s kind of intimidating, Rae Rae.”

 

Her friend sighed and started rummaging through her fridge and pulled out a cup of green Jell-O. Digging into it with a spoon from her sink, Rae Rae shrugged. “I don’t _cause_ the death; I just have to pick up the people who died. Once in a great while, maybe every couple of hundred years the ledgers are _wrong_. It happens, even angels and our stuff aren’t infallible. I mean, you’ve met me and Amenadiel. We try but we’re not perfect.”

 

Ella laughed even as her heart pounded and her head swam. “That I get.”

 

“So, you were just a person on my list who turned out, good for you, wasn’t supposed to be there. Nothing more and nothing less.” Rae Rae was casual about what she said, but her eyes suddenly found Ella’s sink very interesting. It sent a shiver down her spine since she knew that was one of Rae Rae’s tells. After all, who had taught her at first to play cards when she’d been twelve?

 

“But it’s still not like you’re the Angel of Hugs and Puppies,” Ella countered. She sighed loudly and set her head against the back of her sofa, letting herself sink into the overstuffed cushion. “I just am so tired.”

 

Rae Rae spoke with her mouth half full of Jell-O, garbling her words. “And no one would blame you for being that, you know? Most humans, they see one divine thing and they kind of get all weird about it. I mean, we’re not really supposed to show our wings to mortals cause they have this inner light thing going on, the Archangels have it the most, but it can kind of make humans go all ‘fire bad, tree pretty’ and want to stroke the feathers for hours or days…sometimes forever.”

 

Ella’s mouth dropped open again. “So your wings could fry my brain?”

 

“I’m _not_ an archangel. I’m too young. The guys---and it’s always big brothers, you know---that really have that kind of holy cow to them are Amenadiel, Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael. Well, Lu too since he still has the wings. His and Mike’s are the brightest and yeah…that would be a lot to take in.”

 

“Huh,” and that was all Ella had left in her to say. She’d shove the fact that Lucifer’s wings might be able to leave her gibbering just because of how literally awesome they were later. Right now she just…she couldn’t anything.

 

“He’s sorry, you know,” Rae Rae said quietly, and behind her Ella heard the angel scrambling through her fridge for something else.

 

She looked over her shoulder long enough to glimpse Rae Rae pouring herself some orange juice. It was still weird to watch her friend eat. Today had been the first time in over twenty-five years she’d ever seen it, but it still threw her. Ella expected Rae Rae to never touch things but her own body, to hover around on the periphery of things. To see her hands not pass through anything (as Ella always imagined they would if Ghost Rules were broken) and guzzle OJ was so freaking odd. But it didn’t escape Ella’s notice that Rae Rae was keeping her distance from her, staying as far as she could from her in the living room by dawdling in the galley kitchen.

 

 

Ella nodded and drew her knees up to her chest. She set her chin on top of them and willed the shaking in her limbs to stop. “I know he is. That’s what makes me feel crappiest. I know that he didn’t mean to, and I feel like a complete _idiota_ and a hypocrite. I mean, I thought I was getting used to it? Like okay a tail, weird, or like the spike bump, okay roll with it. Even on top of the whole total mindfuck of I’ve been mad at your Dad for about a year because of what happened to my friend Charlotte and I am actually mad with The Big Guy who is around---which I figured was true even when I was waffling in my faith---but I just…I feel like I’m not even sure which side to be on. The Big Guy is supposed to be love and light and support, and then at the same time, he seems like a really shitty dad, at least if you’re an angel.”

 

Rae Rae sighed but still stayed holed up in the kitchen. “Lu has his own take on things. He’s always run hot and cold, always lashed out when he’s frustrated. He gets that from Mom. I love him, I do, but he’s not always the authority on Dad. I mean, yeah, Dad has done some crappy stuff, but he’s still Dad, and he definitely loves humans. You’re his favorites. I just…he asks for a lot, and I used to think it was just what angels did. We obeyed. I mean, it doesn’t help that if you don’t you get smited or worse.”

 

“Like sent to Hell?”

 

“So not a joke, but Dad’s…he’s just complicated and there were good times too, when he was around. I don’t think anyone has spoken to him directly since the ‘70s. Maybe Gabe or Mike, but that’s the last time any of the host confirmed they’d heard from Dad for the rest of us, back when he talked to Amenadiel. I just…sometimes He gets like that, can spend so long visiting other projects or universes, trying to tinker with new things. He probably lost track of time.”

 

Ella frowned but didn’t speak for a while. She knew the justification game that Rae Rae was playing; she played it with herself when she tried to convince herself that her brothers meant well. Family was just complicated, and you wanted to see the best in your blood relatives. But she just wasn’t sure if the Big Guy was anything like she’d hoped or been taught, and it wasn’t even about Lucifer. Even if her friend---the freaking Devil and her mind was finally beginning to grasp a fraction of what that meant---had never existed, she saw how hard Rae Raw and Amenadiel struggled. She didn’t know much of the full deal with Amenadiel, just that he’d managed to make himself fall with all the angel self-actualization. But anyone left to watch their wings fall off and go utterly helpless for a time in the dark, without a word from their dad or any explanation? That was cruel. She remembered him coming to her lab, looking so lost and asking her about the roadkill squirrel and its higher purpose…he’d been so very wounded then in his faith, and now Ella understood why.

 

Rae Rae was clearly isolated from her family. She was still trying to be a good, loyal part of Heaven but had a workload literally splitting her in two (or more? Could she do more?) and little time to see her siblings.

 

The Big Guy just seemed to really suck.

 

“I hope so,” Ella replied. “I just…it was easier when I was little or even before Charlotte was murdered. I’d go to church and feel love and light and connection, and now I’m not even sure if who I’m supposed to be worshipping has actually earned it.”

 

Rae Rae coughed and sipped her juice behind her. Ella could hear her gulping from there. “Dad and Mom did make the whole universe. That’s a good thing. I’m definitely a universe fan. I…humans just think Dad’s perfect and he’s not but it doesn’t make him the one hundred percent bad guy. I just…human dads have a lot of rules and discipline too, don’t they?”

 

“Yes,” Ella answered.

 

Neither of them spoke for a while. _Both_ of them knew that human parents could be strict too. Her father, Hector, had been so upset after Ella admitted about her ghost-friend and that she was still talking to Rae Rae after seeing their parish priest that he’d grounded her for six months. Taken everything out of her room---her books, her CDs, even her deck of cards. He hadn’t realized it had backfired and it was the only time in their whole, weird relationship, that Rae Rae had made time to visit her at least twice a week---and now that Ella _knew_ she had no idea what Rae Rae had pulled to open her own schedule up that much, wasn’t like people stopped dying. But it had made most of her seventh grade spring super suck.

 

So much.

 

But she couldn’t even…like Rae Rae and the Big Guy, she got her father meant well, just did it the wrong way. Eventually, she’d started seeing doctors who couldn’t help her either because, in the end, nothing had been actually wrong with her. But no one mortal could have ever known that; she certainly hadn’t. Maybe God meant well but did it in the worst ways, although she couldn’t see the unquestioned obedience or burn in a lake of fire way as anything but abusive. None of it made sense.

 

“But Lu didn’t mean…”

 

Ella stood, even if she felt like her knees had to be knocking together. Marching toward the kitchen, she leaned against the counter and faced Rae Rae head on. “I know he didn’t, and it’s not even that he snapped the arms. I’m not dumb. I mean, Satan has to be really strong right? Or have some powers that are pretty impressive and beyond mere mortals. Angels too so…”

 

Rae Rae nodded. “But?”

 

“It was _how_ he screamed at me, that growl. Rae Rae, I felt it. I mean, you’re not human so maybe you don’t have some reserve of instincts that scream at you when shit’s about to go down. I mean the kind that are from like hundreds of thousands of years ago, bred into us by evolution, and tell us ‘hey that Sabertooth Tiger is gonna eat you now so totally fight or flight.’ I’m talking that kind of part of my brain. Stuff I can’t have a hope of controlling. When he growled at me like that, my lizard brain just froze. It’s _still_ freezing, and I hate it cause I have to figure out how to get past that. But part of me is even going ‘I like Lucifer and he is like a better brother than the ones I’ve had’ but, you know, at the same time it’s like these idiots on the news.”

 

Rae Rae blinked, looking owlish behind her glasses. “I don’t know if I understand that jump?”

 

“You know, some dumbass in Florida and his wife will come on the news and explain he brought home the gator as a baby and didn’t think he’d get eaten-eaten and yet now he’s gator chow. Or a Sigfried and Roy thing where suddenly you’ve been attacked by your friend, the fucking _tiger_.” Ella started to pace and then cursed when her sneaker hit against one of the paintings she’d taken off her wall months ago. It fell to the floor, face up, and she half wanted to kick the canvas to nothing. She would have if she didn’t fear the bad luck involved with stomping a blessed virgin painting to nothing. Ella was so sick of religion right now.

 

Of All of It.

 

Rae Rae touched her shoulder, and that was new too. Tonight was the first time she’d ever had her friend touch her, realized physically that Rae Rae was solid and not ghostly in anyway. It was still a lot to adjust to. It was all adding up to maybe _too much_ to adjust to. “Lu would never…”

 

“I know that, but my stupid instincts don’t. The Devil screamed at me, and I’m going to have even nightmares than before about it, and at the end of the day feel bad about that too cause I know Lucifer didn’t mean it.” Ella kicked the painting to the side and let out a breath in relief when it didn’t tear on anything after all. She had too much Karmic debt to dig herself any deeper anyway. “And I know you and Lucifer. You don’t mean to hurt people, not that I can tell, but you do, Rae Rae.”

 

Her friend shook her head. “When have I ever done that? Ever? I’ve protected you so much, Ella, and I know I did it wrong. That it was dumb to tell you I was a ghost, okay. I just…you’d already seen me at the accident, and I couldn’t take that back.”

 

“You could have stayed away. My whole life is this big, giant, supernatural mess and has been since I was eight because you found out I wasn’t ready to take but you couldn’t leave me either, you know?”

 

Rae Rae stiffened. “We’re friends.”

 

“I know that or you think that’s what we are, but maybe you don’t understand how friends work, Rae Rae. I mean, knowing you made all the other kids hate me. It made my brothers mock me. My parents think I’m a nutcase who can’t handle living on her own, even though I’ve been fine in L.A. for years. I just…my whole life imploded when I was eight and sometimes I just…I wish so much that car accident had never happened, and we’d never met.” Ella raked a hand through her hair and it came back slick with sweat from her forehead. “You’re the one who encouraged me to apply to an opening in the L.A. forensics department. You’re the one who after a couple years out here, got me to laterally transfer to Lucifer’s station. You convinced me to stay when my family wanted me to leave over a year ago. I’m not dumb.”

 

“Of course not, you wouldn’t be Ella if you were.”

 

“I know how to line up patterns; that’s what I do. You met me at eight, Rae Rae, and decided to change my whole life and then manipulated it so I’d move out here, stay out here, and be friends with your brother. Even if this were just a way to hang out with Amenadiel and not the Devil, that would be so wrong. I just am so tired of the games.”

 

Rae Rae frowned. “Lopez, come on, you don’t mean that. Do you?”

 

Ella couldn’t stay standing any longer. Her legs finally gave out and she sank to the floor, curling up in a ball again, her chin on her knees. Everything hugged close to her stomach. “I feel bad that the Devil scared me. I can’t sleep because I think I’m always going to be mad at God, who’s really really real, and my family thinks I’m crazy because the Angel of Death decided to fuck with me for reasons I don’t understand. And when I close my eyes…there’s fire and brimstone, and I’m freaking out here! So, yeah, Rae Rae, maybe I do mean it. Maybe I really hate that you ever talked to me at all. My life would be so different if you hadn’t shown up, and I think I hate you for that a lot.”

 

“I’m sorry, Lopez—” Rae Rae scooted around the counter and Ella shook her head. Rae Rae stilled and held her hands up, just as Lucifer had after he’d fucking growled at her. “Please, I promised I could make this right.”

 

Ella felt the tears slide down her cheeks. “Can angels change time?”

 

“Of course not. That’s only something Dad could probably do, not us. But I can fix this, Ella. I can.”

 

She choked a little, something small and animalistic coming from her throat, a whimper she’d never made before. “But you broke it, and you did that decades ago. I can’t do this right now. I can’t…tomorrow I have to be in the station anyway, if I can ever sleep. I won’t…Lucifer can muddle through tomorrow with Dan and the other tech. I won’t say anything, but I can’t…I’m normal, Rae Rae, or I was _supposed_ to be, and you stole that from me. I like you and I like Lucifer, but I need to breathe for a minute because I thought I could do this, but I’m not sure I know what _this_ even is.”

 

Rae Rae nodded and stood up. There was a flicker of movement and from nowhere, just like last time, huge, mottled wings were behind her. They did shimmer in the dim light of Ella’s apartment, and they were beautiful, something that would have sent her abuela to her knees and into fervent _oraciones_.

 

“Ella, I never meant this to spiral so badly. You believe that, right?”

 

She nodded but still held her knees close. “I know.”

 

“You were just so happy, so bright, and I hadn’t even met a human like that before. I wanted to see more of it because I was so tired of the dead ones, how sad they are, and I know why they are that way, but you’re wrong about some things too, I know that. You _are_ special, and if any human could deal with all of us---how super crazy my family is---then it would be you.”

 

Ella buried her face against her forearms and let the tears come. “I don’t want to be special, Rae Rae, and I want some rest. Please, just go.”

 

“I…smell you later.” And Ella understood the old comment for what it was. That even if Rae Rae were going to go away for a while, she’d be back. Rae Rae was like that cat in that dumb song; she _always_ came back. There was a flutter of wings and the slightest rush of air, but Ella still didn’t pick her head up, not until a weak “I’m sorry” sounded out behind her.

 

When she was sure her angel friend wasn’t there, Ella staggered to her feet and to her bed. It was already two. Shaking and spent, she yanked out her phone and set the alarm for seven. She’d never make it, but she hoped she could make some excuse about car trouble and switch to the second shift for tomorrow. Chloe had a double. They could coordinate on trial details in the afternoon. For right now, Ella could and would sleep like the dead.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lucifer and Daniel argue, and Lucifer learns more about Colin.

**Chapter Nineteen**

He didn’t need sleep the way mortals did, which was a good thing of late. Granted, he’d proven that not sleeping for weeks on end would lead him crashing in a spectacular fashion, but Lucifer hadn’t hit that point yet. Still, after his sister and Ella had left, he’d had no hope of sleeping and no interest in any possible nightmares that might have plagued him anyway. So, it was with exhaustion creeping into his bones and slightly bleary eyes (nothing had been exactly smooth sleeping since the damned tail) that he trudged into the surveillance van the next day.

 

It said a lot about how poorly he’d left things with Ella that he was relieved only to have a nameless CSI whom he didn’t know working on mic’ing him up and the Douche to deal with this morning.

 

He slipped off his jacket, shirt, and tee and allowed the CSI tech to start on their work. Meanwhile, he waited for Daniel’s inevitable diatribe. He had no illusions, no matter how much Daniel must have promised Ella, that the detective would be able to hold his tongue in order to get through the sting. As the tech worked on wiring him, Lucifer eyed Daniel.

 

“I suppose this is opening a Pandora’s Box, but do you have anything you need me to do today? I plan on locking down a meeting with Coach Holden, seeing if I can get more concrete proof of the cheating scandal and the rest of the team’s connection to Colin’s death. Hazing seems to be the easy cover-up for a full-on scandal.”

 

Daniel regarded him as he made some notes on a legal pad. “And flirting?”

 

Lucifer clenched his jaw but let that annoyance pass. He was a man---devil---of his word, after all, and even if Ella weren’t here, he planned on keeping his promise. He’d be civil even if Daniel had all the manners of someone raised in a barn. “Brian Valerio offered the insight into Colin’s life outside of football. I offered a quid pro quo to lend a musician’s ear to auditions. I’m not actively looking to bed half the faculty or any of the faculty at St. Mary’s this week, Daniel. Besides, haven’t you ever heard that you get more flies with honey than with vinegar?”

 

“Just get the information we need. I don’t think that requires any extra special attention to teachers or receptionists.”

 

“And yet, being polite with Frankie got me some of the info on Coach Holden I needed.” He sighed and started putting back on his clothes now that the tech was done and had excused himself to run some equipment checks outside. “Anything else you want to berate me about, detective?”

 

Daniel scowled at him. “Just don’t try and screw with---take that as you will---any of the staff.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Lucifer sighed and started shoving his clothes back on now that the CSI tech was done with him. “I know you doubt my veracity sometimes, but I have never lied, and believe me now when I say I’m nowhere near in a position to invite anyone to my bed. Besides, I can’t fathom how you don’t understand the difference between being nice to sources to get what you need and always going full grilling on someone. Maybe the LAPD needs a lighter touch sometimes.”

 

Daniel clenched his jaw and then looked to the tech. “Can you give us one minute, James?”

 

The CSI agent was more than happy to scurry out of the room, probably sensing the tension that was so thick between him and the detective, that had been that way since Charlotte’s murder. And Lucifer didn’t know what to do about that. How to fix something that was so fundamentally broken, especially since a huge part of him felt that he never should have involved Charlotte in celestial matters. Not that she’d had a choice in it. That was the bitch of eternity; it literally gave one endless time to second guess every mistake they’d ever made, and Lucifer’s were myriad.

 

Lucifer arched an eyebrow as the van door shut and then regarded the detective. “Is there anything else you’d like to prod me on then?”

 

“What’s the deal with you and Ella?”

 

Lucifer set his lips into a grim line. His first reaction was to snap at Daniel a line about never one to scoop up sloppy seconds, which would have been instinctual, but also would have both insulted Ella _and_ proven he had inhumanly good hearing. Instead, he let the anger pass and reminded himself that he had promised to be civil, and that he was _always_ a devil of his word.

 

“She’s my good friend. You have those, don’t you?”

 

“So, you’re not sleeping with her?”

 

Lucifer sighed, and adjusted his jacket sleeves. “Look, if you must know, it actually has come to light lately that Miss Lopez and my little sister knew each other back in Detroit. I don’t keep up much with my host of siblings, goes with being kicked out of my home, but Rae Rae and I reconciled of late, and I think that whole level of interconnection has deepened mine and Ella’s friendship. At least, I hope so.”

 

Considering that the last time he’d seen Ella, she’d been so scared he’d been afraid her heart was going to beat right out of her chest, Lucifer wasn’t quite sure if the friendship was still there. Ella certainly hadn’t texted him this morning, winking devil emoji or not, to ease that fear. Honestly, after growling at her like he would have a demon underling who’d fucked up, he had no reason to expect more. But, until told otherwise, he assumed they were still friends.

 

Dear Dad let that be so.

 

Daniel blinked. “Wait, you’re from Detroit? Ha! I knew the accent was fake.”

 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “This is my accent.” Currently anyway so not technically a lie. “My sister has spent time in Detroit. She’s far younger than I am and was fairly small when I was kicked out. I had no idea where she’s traveled over these interminable years. It has all been quite the revelation to me as well.” He sighed again and adjusted the glasses on his nose. “Now, if you’re done pretending to be Miss Lopez’s big brother and needlessly threatening me…”

 

“I’m not. Believe me,” Daniel grimaced. “I’m not that at all, but I should have…if I’d said anything over the years about your line of bullshit then maybe Joan Reyes or Charlotte would both still be alive.”

 

“Are we to be rehashing all my supposed sins?”

 

“You got Charlotte into investigating The Sinnerman. Yeah, she was a cop once, but she was just a D.A. then and you both had to know that it wasn’t safe, that she wasn’t prepared to avoid the kind of network and killers he had working for him. You should have come to us, man!”

 

Lucifer wanted to stand and pace, but the van roof was too low, and he’d hit his head. Instead, he balled his hands up as fists at his side since he didn’t trust himself not to accidentally rip his jacket sleeves if he tried to adjust them. “I bloody well did. I tried to explain it all along. Not well, but I tried. I told the Detective that _someone_ had kidnapped me once I got back to the station from the very desert I’d woken up in, and no one believed me. Then, she kept telling me that the Sinnerman was a myth, even as Pierce was playing me…because even I didn’t know the full scope at first. I finally break down and tell her in the bloody interrogation room all about Pierce’s dark side, and she sent me home to sleep. I tried!”

 

“You tried with all your biblical bullshit delusions, and Charlotte got killed.”

 

“They’re not bullshit,” he said because at the end of the day, he never lied.

 

“Yes, because my former boss and a crooked cop was of course the world’s first murderer.” Daniel shook his head. “Look, I like Linda when I see her socially, which doesn’t happen every often, but maybe you need a new therapist. I just…Charlotte and Joan are dead, and that’s never going to change.”

 

“Believe me,” Lucifer replied, voice raw and hushed. “I understand that more than you could ever imagine.”

 

“And something…I don’t know what happened in that loft shootout. I wish to God I did because my wi… _Chloe’s_ never been the same since then. She was going to tell me something, but then she didn’t and she went all the way to fucking Rome, and she hasn’t been her since. So, yeah, Lucifer, excuse me if I see your bullshit spreading like a damn plague, and I don’t want it to hurt Ella too.”

 

Lucifer focused on the rivets in the floor of the surveillance van. “Everything with me and the Detective is rather complicated and quite private, thank you kindly.”

 

“She’s the mother of my child. Frankly, that still involves me because I don’t want your crap hurting Chloe _or_ Trixie.”

 

“I’d never harm the urchin, not ever. In point of fact, I do believe I’m the one who kept her safe from Ponyboy. So, Detective Espinoza, if we’re done here, then I’ve a case to get on with.”

 

“Just get the info, Lucifer. I want this over because I…you’re a great tool, but the rest of the baggage is too fucking much to deal with.”

 

Lucifer slid out of the back door and to the pavement below. He gave Daniel a small bow and struggled to keep the bitter sarcasm out of his voice. He’d promised Ella after all, and he was going to stay civil no matter if the douche couldn’t. “Then, I suppose this tool needs to get to work, doesn’t it?”

**

 

“You’re not used to dealing with this many hormonal teenagers day in and day out, are you?” Brian asked, as he bit into his egg salad sandwich. Lucifer’s nostrils twitched, the slight eggy smell reminded him of Sulphur, and what a joy that was.

 

“We don’t get any at Lux. I might be the devil,” Lucifer said, letting the billionth human in his life take it as the joke-slash-assumed-persona they all figured it was, and then continuing. “I have good bouncers and strict rules. I find the legal age of drinking in the States rather tiresome, but we do enough illicit things at Lux that I’ve no interest in being shut down because my manager couldn’t tell the difference between a fake i.d. and a real one. Too much of a damn hassle and a waste of bribe money to the right people to make that go away.”  


Brian’s eyes widened. “Sound like that comes from experience.”

 

“A mistake made our first year open. So much palm greasing after the one infraction, and it was hardly worth it.” He shrugged and smiled. “That’s not to say I’m a stranger to fraternity and sorority parties when the mood suits, but to be surrounded with no libations around fourteen and fifteen year olds…well, I thought I knew about Hell before.”

 

Brian chuckled again. “Tell me how you really feel.”

 

“I’ve been through worse.” Undoubtedly. “But I’m growing rather frustrated by this stakeout, and I’d like to get what I need and be back to the precinct and my club, respectively. I know I’m close, and really all I need is a few minutes alone with the Coach.” And enough luck not to inadvertently desire mojo---thank you, Detective, for such a title for his powers---the entire school. Still a big if.

 

“Holden clearly has it out for you, man. That’s a risk.”

 

Lucifer flashed the music teacher a grin that was utterly feral. “It wouldn’t end well for him if he tried anything, I assure you of that.”

 

Brian shook his head. “If you want, man, so after the auditions this afternoon, I’ll be happy to show you to the football field. If you can get that wall to talk, it’ll be a miracle.”

 

“Oh, it’ll be a sight more infernal than that,” Lucifer drawled.

 

Brian laughed again. “You take the Devil persona thing quite seriously, don’t you? I am beginning to lose track of the puns.”

 

“It’s a way of life, what can I say?” Lucifer replied, pushing the crap on the tray that the California educational system roughly and generously described as lasagna. He was still full from last night, but it felt like something he should do, pretend to eat, although after how he’d left things with Ella, hungry was the last thing he felt. “Now, what do you know about the team or about Colin in particular?”

 

“Team? Mostly, they’re not the guys who tend to run in my classes. Yes, we have some mandatory music theory class stuff. Most of the freshmen take a semester of that. The stuff that would get me really to know the football players isn’t going to happen---instrument lessons or plays bleed into afterschool and that would conflict with training and practice for football. So, for good or bad, I don’t know the players all that well.”

 

“That’s not a great amount of quid pro quo for forcing me to suffer soon through the tone deaf.”

 

“Not all of them,” Brian countered.

 

He reached down and adjusted the pendant around his neck. It was set on a plain silver chain, a shape not completely unlike an ankh but not quite. Lucifer wasn’t familiar with every preternatural thing out there---he only had come to Earth for so long at a time for each vacation before this one and Amenadiel was the scholar, after all---but the symbol intrigued him, especially on a (he assumed) Catholic.  

 

“Be that as it may, I’d still like more of the details, if you can.” He quirked his head at the pendant. “That’s unusual. Where did you get it?”

 

“My boyfriend, Laurent, gave it to me for our one year anniversary a bit ago. He was overseas in Morocco and said he thought I’d like it.” Brian shrugged. “Honestly, far from my style, but it meant so much to him that I wear it, and it’s grown on me.”

 

Lucifer nodded. “Interesting. Alright, so moving on. Have you noticed anything with the players. I suspect from Mrs. Scott’s records and term paper files that there’s massive plagiarism and possibly term paper buying afoot. Any gossip on that.”

 

Brian nodded. “Frankie said a few months back that Mr. Clayton in the history department had a big complaint about one of the linebacker’s papers on Abraham Lincoln but then, ugh, Coach Holden ‘talked’ to him and it was all copacetic.”

 

“Was the man hurt?”

 

“Dunno, but he won’t talk about it, even when Frankie asked and followed up with him. I don’t give term papers, so I don’t know. What I can tell you, is last time I bumped into Colin in the hall and said hi? Well, the kid was scared. He was so jumpy that just me grazing against his shoulder sent him jumping up two feet. I tried to figure out what was wrong, but he wouldn’t say anything. He caught sight of Holden’s kids the team captain across the hall and he split so far, I expected one of those cartoon smoke trails like in Looney Toons.” Brian shook his head. “I should have known then how bad things were, that Coach Holden and his son-slash-minion Scott had graduated to intimidating players and not just hapless history teachers.”

 

Lucifer considered that. “So, sins of the father. Sounds like both Holdens have quite the racket going on here.”

 

“That’s what I think, but I don’t have any proof.”

 

Lucifer shoved his tray away. It was impossible that the collection of tomatoes (maybe?) and noodles before him had ever been actually lasagna. “Then, we’ll have to work on that, won’t we?”

 

Brian shook his head. “Your funeral, man; no one on staff wants to deal with Holden if they can help it. I think of it as the ‘roid rage myself.”

 

Lucifer grinned again, feeling more in his element. “Believe me, Brian, I’ve dealt with a sight worse set of boogeymen than Coach Holden. This will feel like a holiday in comparison.”

**

 

To be fair to Brian’s students, not all of them were bloody awful. Honestly, the girls were far better than the few lads who’d managed to show, and that was probably a volume game. If there was more than one guy for every dozen or so girls who came into audition, then Lucifer would be generally surprised. Silly that. Not that he wasn’t a natural fan of musical theater because oh was he. When he’d come top side in 1955 and discovered _Guys and Dolls_ , he’d been quite enamored with the entire world of musical theater, such a step up in some ways from just opera. He’d led Amenadiel on a merry chase for three weeks just to get more time to experience it all for himself.

 

It was just that, also, the odds favored the brave in the young men who did deign to sign up and were interested in that side of the street.

 

Anyway, the girls were serviceable, and they’d found two birds who were quite talented and would make promising Marions, which was always a favorite role of his because, honestly, who didn’t fancy an uptight librarian with a romantic side. It reminded him a bit of a certain detective, both would have worn their hair in such forcefully sensible buns after all.

 

It was the about eight boys who’d shown up so far who seemed to be buggering up the audition process. Not that the lead role in _The Music Man_ was exactly easy to wrap one’s head around. It was both frightfully easy to sing and, at the same time, required a bit of rhythm and breath work. Harold Hill did that whole speak-singing thing and Lucifer was also mentally side-eyeing Rex Harrison in _My Fair Lady_ , but that was neither here nor there. The point was, while “Ya Got Trouble” had about five notes in it, if that, it was fast paced and a bit tricky on the tongue.

 

After the latest painfully terrible audition, and Brian’s panicked though delightfully blushing face over the prospect of not finding a lead, Lucifer took pity on the teacher.

 

Standing and brushing any lint from his trousers, Lucifer left the auditorium chairs and sidled on stage and took the mic from the latest poor lad who’d cocked it up so horribly. “Right then. I think it’s the piece you’re having trouble acclimating too and not the requirements of the musicianship. Am I right?”

  
The ten---they still had a couple boys left to go through---guys nodded, and Lucifer eyed Brian. “Recue it up. Figure if they hear how it should sound, or at least a version not bloody well done in the ‘50s, then they might be better at telling us how bad an idea a sodding pool hall is. Would you be so kind, Mr. Valerio?”

 

The other man took his seat back at the piano and started to play the opening notes to the song. As musicals went, he appreciated ones with a more intense difficulty level and, in that regard, _The Music Man_ left much to be desired. Doing the quid pro quo to show the lads trying out for Harold Hill how it was supposed to be done was far from a challenge—he much preferred being out with Ella in Vegas with some Lady Luck—but he muddled through the inferior song anyway. After all, trouble with a capital T was something he knew everything about. Somewhere around the mid-point, where he’d been able to belt out---such as one could with this score---about the idle brain being the Devil’s playground (libelous that), Lucifer had leaned into the whole performance and started to relax.

 

However, by the time he’d ended and focused back on the crowd, he found it hard to breathe. Everyone in the auditorium except for Brian was staring at him in rapt attention. He wasn’t fool enough to think that was totally natural. Teenagers with access to smart phones had half of his own attention span on a good day. Besides, all of them were inching closer to him bit by bit, their eyes too wide and their jaws hung slack.

 

Fuck, he’d mojoed a crowd again.

 

Lucifer swallowed even as the lads and the girls closest to him started asking for what they wanted like he was the world’s most fucked up version of Santa Claus. He heard more than a few demands on who would make a great date for homecoming and even more for which car model for a sweet sixteen before he took a step back from the encroaching crowd and, breathing deeply, forced the electric sizzle up his back to die out, to be pushed away. It took so very long and he had at least four kids literally yanking at the tweed of his jacket before it ended, and they snapped back to themselves.

 

Brian had eyed all of this with confusion and, eventually, an utter shock on his face. Lucifer swallowed hard and tried to move past it. Most of the students looked stunned, but they were about as disoriented as the average suspect after interrogation. It wasn’t clicking for them exactly what had happened.

 

“Well, then, that’s how it would be done. I…if you’ll excuse me…” he hurried off the stage and through the back doors of the auditorium. If he hurried, he could get back to his current classroom and take some deep breaths before more Shakespeare, to just put _any space_ possible between him and the zombified students he’d left behind.

 

He made it about thirty feet, slowed down by not knowing the blasted halls well enough, before Brian caught up with him. The slight redhead had a hand on his forearm, and Lucifer was too shaken to pull away. After all, he’d just roofied essentially a whole auditorium, the last thing he wanted was to miscalculate his strength and tug hard enough to send the music teacher flying into a wall.

 

“Do you want to explain what the hell I just saw?” Brian started.

 

Lucifer stilled and pulled his arm away as soon as Brian dropped his jacket sleeve. “It was nothing. I was trying to help.” He raked a hand through his hair, not caring for once how messy it probably was. “I got carried away.”

 

Brian narrowed his eyes at him. “I…my kids never focus like that, and the part after. I have no idea why all of a sudden asking from Homecoming dates was on their radar.”

 

Lucifer cognizant of skating the truth, offered what he could. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

 

“I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I think I just saw you hypnotize a roomful of kids.”

 

“It’s not hypnotism,” Lucifer said. And that was true. What he could do to elicit desires was far more powerful and primal than that. “I just…I’m sorry. I apologize for being too hammy out there. I hope your students can continue the auditions properly. I think you’ve found some suitable female leads. The lads might be able to get the timing on their song better now, find you a lead there too.”

 

“I don’t care about that part. I care about what happened. I’d call it mass hysteria, but I didn’t think that was a thing!”

 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes back at the music teacher. “Odd.”

 

“It was.”

 

“I just…you didn’t…you were at the piano the whole time.”

 

“You mean I wasn’t advancing like an extra from _The Walking Dead_. No, I guess I didn’t.”

 

Lucifer scrubbed at his stubble. “I’m sorry. I can honestly tell you that I did _not_ intend that.”

 

Brian ran his hand over the not-ankh around his neck. “What exactly did you intend? I mean, Laurent always said things, especially after he left seminary early but…I… _what_ are you?”

 

Lucifer dug his hands into his jacket pockets but refused to bow his head or avoid Brian’s gaze. “I’ve never lied. What I am at Lux…who I say I am has always been true.”

 

Brian apparently _was_ a good Catholic. The other man crossed himself. “Jesus Christ.”

 

“Assuredly not, but a son of God, nevertheless. Just the one Dad doesn’t want to admit exists much.” Lucifer was impressed he kept that much bitterness out of his voice. “Look, I just want the case closed, and I want to find out who killed Colin Whitmore, that’s all. I really do consult for the LAPD.” Who, in point of fact were listening now, but Daniel wouldn’t believe him because he was never going to be believe him or his delusions. The douche would just assume that Lucifer was milking the religiosity of the Catholic school teachers for an in, which, unexpectedly he was now. “Can you help me do that?”

 

“Are you here for my students’ souls?” The lithe redhead was standing up now to his full height, which still didn’t really come much past Lucifer’s shoulder, but it impressed Lucifer nevertheless. After whatever bullshit was going on with Coach Holden, it was a pleasant surprise to see a teacher who cared about their students, cared enough to stand up to Satan, himself. Not that Brian would have stood a chance if Lucifer were so inclined, but he respected bravery where he saw it. “You can’t have them if you are.”

 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “The Devil is not interested in anyone’s souls. I wouldn’t bloody know what to do with them if I had them. This isn’t _Faust_ , Mr. Valerio. I’ve been on holiday these last eight or so years, and I take my consulting for the police seriously. Believe me when I say all I desire is to take Coach Holden down for the murder of one of his own players. That’s all.” He sighed and leaned against the nearest wall, suddenly so very spent. “Now, can you help me? Or will you at least allow me to pass unimpeded?”

 

Brian frowned and chewed a bit on his lower lip. “You won’t hurt them?”

 

“No interested in children under the best of circumstances, and we already established I’ve no concern with infuriating adolescents either. I just want justice for your dear student; that is all.”

 

“I…then I’ll take you to the field this afternoon, but I want a quid pro quo one more time.”

 

Lucifer arched an eyebrow at him. “I only do so many favors and the last one we’re muddling through hasn’t gone well.”

 

“I’ll get you a chance to interview Coach Holden and get whatever you need. I just want…well, I think Laurent and I would like to speak with you more privately.”

 

Lucifer eyed the ankh. “If either of you is a holy man on a mission, then someone beat you to that. I’ve had my fill of any seminary of late. Maybe in a decade or so.”

 

“No, but I think you really need to speak with both of us. Laurent especially.”

 

Lucifer sighed. “If there is an exorcism involved in this deal, so help you, I’m not in the mood.”

 

“No, it’s about a prophecy.”

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ella has nightmares.

**Chapter Twenty**

She was boosting a car again back in Detroit. That wasn’t right. Ella hadn’t been back to Michigan in close to five years. Once she’d made her break for it, she’d refused to go back, dug down deep and made L.A. her home no matter what. However, she was back and stealing, of all things, an ancient Impala with absolutely no Blue Book value. Talk about a rookie’s mistake. Still, Ella couldn’t keep her hands from going through the familiar, easy motions. A twist of the screwdriver in her hand and she’d dislodged the cover on the ignition well enough to get to the wires underneath. A few quick twists, and the Impala roared to life.

 

The sound of sirens blared behind her and she gunned the engine, taking off across the city streets. She’d outrun the _puerco_ before, and this was no exception. She turned a sharp left to an alley before the cops had rounded the previous corner and turned everything off, including the engine and her headlights. The fuzz drove past, and Ella breathed a sigh of relief even if she had a car on her hands that might have sentimental value to a few muscle car collectors, but would fetch shit on a down low sale or at a chop shop.

 

She leaned back in her seat and let out a long sigh. Then, as if on instinct, she reached for her crucifix and frowned when her fingers touched an unfamiliar, cool metal shape. It was a circle but as she investigated it further, she felt the straight lines of the star in its center. Confused, Ella flipped down the Impala’s visor and frowned at the ornate, sterling silver pentagram she was sporting.

 

“What the…”

 

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember?” A familiar voice purred behind her. If possible, his British lilt more pronounced than usual. “ _Hermana_ , you took my side, didn’t you?”

 

She blinked and turned as best she could to the backseat where Lucifer was sprawled out. He was leaning against the middle section of the bench seat, hands behind his head, and long legs splayed out until his feet disappeared under the passenger seat in the front. His suit was black on black, all darkness except for the blood red pocket square in his shirt. He kept the relaxed posed but something horrifying flickered in his eyes, and as Ella watched, the brown blazed away to be replaced with a demonic crimson.

 

“You know you’re mine,” he said again. This time his voice wasn’t the jovial one she’d come to know late nights at the lab while he humored her forensics lectures. It wasn’t even the pensive version that had moaned about closure during Lux’s siege. No, it was the deep growl, the loud roar that reminded her painfully that her friend was still Satan, still an entity in his own right powerful enough to make all the demons of Hell cower before him.

 

Her teeth started chattering even as the goosebumps erupted over her skin. “I…I don’t know what I want anymore.” And she wasn’t sure which was worse---to tell the Big Guy to shove it and side with Lucifer and the Angel of Death or to tell Lucifer that she’d changed her mind and that, on some level, him being The Prince of Darkness terrified her in a way her hindbrain couldn’t ignore any longer. “I just…I need time to think.”

 

Lucifer grinned, and it was not the easy, friendly expression she was used to and often comforted by. No, instead his lips pulled back into a rictus that highlighted his prominent, bright teeth. Reaching up, he snapped his fingers and the hood burns into a torrent of flames. Ella screamed as smoke filled her lungs and her eyes watered from the onslaught.

 

“No!”

 

His grin widened, almost impossibly so as if he were going to devour her whole, and he nodded toward the hood. “Won’t be long now before the bonnet explodes there, _chica_ , and then you’ll truly be mine. All those sins---the gambling, the sneaking out and lying to your parents, the stealing…what fun will I have with you for days on end?”

 

Ella screamed again and leapt for the car door. The latch wouldn’t give, and she shoved her shoulder into it, desperate to escape the car, which was rapidly being engulfed in flames. The smoke choked her throat, and she coughed, sputtering so hard she doubled over.

 

Lucifer leaned forward and traced one, long index finger over her neck. “Remember that. You promised. You belong to me. It’s just a matter of time.”

 

After that, the hood _did_ explode, and all Ella felt was the blinding heat.

 

And the pain.

**

She shot out of bed so fast she fell to the side, tangled in her sheets and her BB8 comforter. Heart still racing, she reached up and felt her face, just to make sure she wasn’t on fire. Swallowing hard, Ella got back to her knees but paused before crawling into bed. She was in the position to pray, not that she was sure it had to be an official position. She could ask Rae Rae about that later. Her head spun again even from the thought that she knew an angel---well three technically if fallen ones counted too---and that Rae Rae (or Amenadiel or Lucifer for that matter) would know exactly how best to pray to be heard by the Big Guy.

 

Did she want to?

 

Now that she knew and her skin was still clammy from fear for her mortal soul…did Ella want to crawl back to Him? She wanted to believe so badly that the Big Guy was about love and peace the way her _abuela_ had taught her; she did. Yet, she’d seen Amenadiel be so lost over the years, and watched how Rae Rae, for all her faults, struggled to be everywhere at once to ferry souls about and seemed so utterly isolated and lonely. She knew a fraction of what had befallen (heh puns) Lucifer…and she didn’t understand how a good father could do any of that.

 

It didn’t make it better that the Big Guy loved humans better. He seemed to be cruel to his angels, and that was a bitter pill for Ella to grapple with.

 

But she wanted something. The posture was so familiar, and the ritual of prayer had been sorely missed in her life these last seven or eight months. Well, except for the blind panic driving to Temecula for a bone saw when she’d begged to the universe and anyone else listening to help her because she wasn’t a vet or anything close to that. But there had been a comfort in talking all the time to the Big Guy. She just felt bereft.

 

And she definitely couldn’t pray to Lucifer, assuming he could hear it. He’d been an angel, didn’t mean he could still do all an angel should have been capable of. Rae Rae was out because Ella was still nursing her anger at her old friend. Charlie was only half and wouldn’t know the difference. Yet…

 

Sighing, she resumed the posture, so familiar yet so lapsed, and opened up her mind and her heart:

 

_Hey Amenadiel…I know that you know cause I’m sure Linda told you by now. This might even fall under a commandment breaker, not that I think you’re an idol or a false god cause I so don’t, but I’m just…it’s confusing lately. It’s all an awful lot, and I want to go back to who I was, and I want to still be friends with apparently the trio of mixed up angels I’ve **always** been buds with, but I’m not sure I know how, you know, now that I know. Yeesh, this probably sounds like confused babbling because it really is confused babbling. I just…I think I’m drowning lately, and I just need perspective. I…if you did hear this, thanks for listening. I really needed it. Oh, um, it’s Ella in case you didn’t know. Say hi to Linda and Charlie for me!_

 

Sighing, she slid back into bed and checked her cell. It was getting on toward 6:30. She’d have to call the station soon and beg to be put on second shift. After barely crashing out at two and her nightmare…she felt like she’d been put through a cheese grader. Granted, in her party girl year this past nine months or so, she’d definitely gone to work hungover and feeling worse, but maybe not as upset. It wasn’t fair to her best friend, not really. Lucifer had been as shocked as she had been that he’d growled at her---that he’d treated her like a demon underling or so she presumed---but the lingering effects were hard to shake, especially before the sun rose. Her teeth still felt like they were chittering, the loud roar was still reverberating in her brain, and that tiny (or maybe not tiny enough) atavistic part of her mind that screamed to run and hide from the giant tiger and mastodon and everything in between was still shouting.

 

It was what being the Devil meant that had struck Ella so hard, not who Lucifer was, but she wasn’t sure she could reconcile the two sides of her friend today. She figured with enough time her instincts would shut the fuck up and she could master them the same way she’d learned to like roller coasters as a kid or racing cars too. She could get the adrenaline rush and deal with immediate fear of something, to be honest, obviously dangerous. That was the same for dealing with Lucifer she suspected. He was a person who could be insanely dangerous, and the instinctive part of her was quivering over all of it.

 

Blinking blearily, she dialed the main desk at the precinct and made her excuses to Justine. A lie about her toilet flooding and waiting for the plumber sufficed well enough, and to be honest, her life was flooded with a different type of crap lately anyway. After that, she dozed on and off a bit, not allowing herself to sleep too deeply in case nightmares found her again. By ten, she realized she couldn’t even _fake_ resting anymore, not with the same circuit of terrified thoughts rounding through her brain.

 

She sat up in her bed and picked up her cell again. Part of her wanted to call her mom, but if she got her, Ella was sure she’d be given not-so-subtle orders to go back to church and to the psychiatrist. Neither option felt quite right yet. Scratch that. Her “ghost friend” was very real so there was no need for the meds. As far as mass…Ella just wasn’t sure what to do on that. So, while calling her mother might be her first instinct, she already knew how that was going to go. Or more accurately, _not_ go. But she had a big family and someone else came to mind.

 

She scrolled down for Jay and pressed the button. He might already be on the way to work, but it was worth a chance to catch him in the car or just opening up the diamond store he worked with.

 

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Ella! Are you okay?”

 

She frowned. “Why does anything have to be up?”

 

“Because you’re calling me at seven a.m., and you usually call home for all of us on Sunday afternoons. So, _qué_ _pasa, chica_? What’s going on?”

 

She sighed and wrapped one strand of dark hair around her index finger and then back off again. “Honestly, can you promise you won’t freak _Mamí_ out?”

 

“Are you safe, Ella?” There was a frantic pitch in his voice she wasn’t sure she could place. Yeah, she worked for the cops in L.A., and like any big city, it had its dangers. But it was still safer than Detroit.

 

She frowned on her end. “Of course.” Well technically. Probably. Lucifer was a more protective older brother than her real ones. It wouldn’t end well for anyone who tried to hurt her; Ella was sure of that much, which was both a bit extreme yet oddly comforting. “Why do you ask?”

 

“You’re still working with that weirdass consultant? The guy with the three-piece suits?”

 

“Lucifer? Yeah, he’s still working with Detective Decker…I mean, he’s been sort of on half time cause of family stuff.” And a tail. “But he’s still there. Why do you ask?”

 

He let out a long, shaky breath. “No reason. I was just curious.”

 

“Jay, I know when you’re bullshitting me. You were asking for a reason…I…did you see something when you were in L.A.?”

 

“Ella…”

 

She knew that tone. It was the one all of her family, especially her brothers, tended to throw in her face when they were going to probe (or tease her cause Ricardo was the worst about that) over her so-called visions.

 

“I’m serious…I, look Jay, I shouldn’t say this cause I know you’re going to tell everyone else, but I’ve been, uh, seeing that ghost again. Like a lot. I know I need to, well, make an appointment with my psychiatrist, but it’s just…there’s been so much going on lately and L.A. has a lot of pressures of its own, and I didn’t want to talk to _Mamí_ or _Papí_ and have them start on the just come home to Detroit talk, you know?”

 

“What else has been ‘a lot,’ Els?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Look, I saw that Lucifer guy one more time than I saw you before I left town. I mean, he tracked me down for something.”

 

“Diamond sales?”

 

Jay sighed. “He wanted to scare me straight from doing any more shady shit, uh, just wanted to make sure the one almost cleaning in L.A. was my only walk on the wild side. Dude was intense. I mean, I thought I saw his eyes go red. I’m sure it was just a trick of the light or I’d been held at gun point earlier in the day and I was pretty fucking tired but…dude was definitely weird and not just because he was British.”

 

Ella just barely kept herself from laughing hysterically. Oddly, the one thing she could be sure of was that Lucifer had never actually been born in England. He was from some place far _north_ of that. “He can be like that.”

 

Jay paused for a long time on the other line. “Now I’m gonna sound nuts…”

 

He let the unspoken “like you” go unsaid there.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Well,” he started. “I saw something, and I kept trying to tell myself I didn’t and, I dunno, maybe I didn’t but I wanted to say now that we’re talking about L.A. being weird that I think it’s really fucking _raro_. If you wanted to come back to Detroit and to us, then it wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

 

Ella nodded and kept wrapping her hair around her finger, the motion soothing her. “Maybe I will, Jay. I just…I have so much to figure out. It’s hard and it’s scary, but I also have some good friends who, okay, seem to be coming with an assload of problems, but they’re so nice to me too. I have to figure out what’s worth it to me, and what’s not.”

 

“I know, Els, but don’t get hurt. If you do have to come home, I’ll keep Ricardo and everyone else off your back. You know that, right? I just want to be a good brother. I sort of wasn’t when I was in your town last time. I’d love to make up for that.”

 

She sniffled a little. “Lucifer really did talk you straight, huh?”

 

“He sure did something. _Ten cuidado._ I know you think they’re all your friends out there, but you just have to be careful, Els. Detroit might be rough, but Los Angeles is fucking weird, you know?”

 

“I’m beginning to figure that out. Get to work, Jay. I’m okay for now. I love you, you know, you big goof.”

 

“I love you too, Els. If you need anything, just call. Alright?”

 

She nodded even if he couldn’t see her and wiped at her eyes. “Always.”

**

“Hey, Ella, can we talk?” Chloe frowned back at her, the expression marring her normally flawless features.

 

Seriously, it was obvious the girl had been an actress, even if Ella had always heard that hot tub movie had been kind of a rip off of better teen movies and, well, not very good. Although Lucifer tended to rhapsodize about it, but he clearly was biased when it came to anything Chloe.

 

Ella leaned over her lab table and tried, yet failed, to stifle a yawn. They’d talked until dinner break over the case and the evidence for the trial Chloe’d be testifying at tomorrow. Decker was definitely ready to rock the testimony. After that, Ella had grabbed some of her favorite crepes from the food truck across the from the precinct---breakfast special, extra bananas and chocolate---and settled into reviewing some evidence for a case that Rodriguez hadn’t gotten to yet. He was still grouchy about his missing lab coat, and she was trying to make it up to him by lightening his load a little. But she’d assumed she and Chloe were done for the day. Then again, no one would want to be more prepared for court than her friend. Another round of the practice cross-examination couldn’t hurt.

 

“Sure!” Ella said, pushing her half-finished paper plate away and trying to fake the perkiness that normally came naturally to her. “Want one more practice sesh?”

 

Chloe shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Crossing her arms over her chest, she frowned more deeply at Ella. “I’m worried about you. I mean, I know you and Dan are working that case out at that prep school, but when I see you around lately…you seem so tired. Are you sleeping okay?”

 

_Gee, Chloe, I keep dreaming I’m in Hell so things are going super great…_

 

Ella could definitely not say that, especially since Chloe knew that was a real place. First, Ella wasn’t supposed to know it was all really-real, and second, she’d get Chloe’s hackles up even more about Lucifer since that seemed to be a relationship on even greater tenterhooks than her own with him. Instead, she opted to try skating around the truth.

 

“Just a lot of issues with the case. It’s hard, and it’s upsetting to think about a teenager dying possibly cause other teens were hazing him.” She shrugged. “The minors hit me the worst, you know?”

 

Chloe nodded and her expression softened. “At first, when I got cases with young or teen girls, I had to work really hard not to overidentify them with Trixie. I just kept thinking about ‘what if this were my daughter,’ and I still do to an extent cause it drives me to solve the case, but Dan helped me learn not to bring it home too. You’re still pretty new to the field, Ella.”

 

“Five years and counting!”

 

“But it’s still hard to learn to build up the walls you need, and no one has a bigger heart than you do. It’s okay to be upset, but try to leave it in the lab so that you can rest, okay?”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, before she yawned. Damn, she was really giving herself away.

 

Chloe stepped away from the door and set a hand on Ella’s shoulder. “Is it more than the case?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean?”

 

Chloe yanked her hand back and stared down at the lab table. “Well, you’ve been spending a lot of time with Lucifer and, I dunno, did something happen?”

 

Ella blinked. “Huh?”

 

Her friend fumbled, clearly wanting to say more than her confidence with Lucifer allowed. “Just…I know you’ve been hanging out more and he can be a lot. I mean, he’s a great partner, but I was maybe thinking he was slowing you down at night with stories and jokes when you needed to prep cases.” Chloe shrugged and gave a giggle that was more shrill than she’d probably intended for it to be. “He’s great for procrastination!”

 

“Oh, nothing like that. If anything, I’m the one who drones on about conference things and new journal findings to him.” Ella ran a hand through her bangs. “He’s been really great with hanging out lately. I…maybe it’s not my business either, but are you two okay? I noticed he’s not going out on cases or even interrogating subjects?”

 

Chloe stilled and concentrated even harder on the lab table. “His nephew was just…”

 

“Chloe, are you mad at him?” And Ella wasn’t even sure what she was getting at. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she, Ella, were mad at him.

 

Mostly, she was mad at Rae Rae for dragging her into everything, and she was struggling not to be scared for things like, heh, her mortal soul, but she wasn’t mad at Lucifer. It was more like she was frustrated with herself for being weak. For not being sure where she stood or how to keep the nightmares from encroaching on her.

 

Her friend finally looked up at her, blue eyes shinier than usual. “No, I’m not. I…after Pierce, I can admit I was mad and scared and frustrated. Everything in the loft and surviving that shootout…it was something else.”

 

_I’ll bet._

 

“But…” Chloe continued. “It got easier to find a rhythm again, uh, around his too many orgies and passing out schedule with Eve.”

 

Ella chuckled genuinely at that. “You can’t burn the candle at both ends forever, no matter what.”  


“I guess you can’t.”

 

“But he’s not doing much here and…”

 

Chloe crossed her arms again. “I just want to protect him. He’s been through so much this year, and it’s not just all the family stuff or having a lot of conflict with Eve and losing her. I just…if anything happened to him, and it was _my_ fault, I’d never forgive myself.”

 

Ella frowned. “But you’ve had him as a civilian” Which hey since Archangels, even former ones, were warriors, Lucifer wasn’t exactly the average civilian, was he? “out in the field for years. If something happened…he knows the risk.”

 

“Yeah, and he almost bled to death and Lux, and sometimes things can get even worse, more complicated. If he died or…well if something horrible happened because I’m close to him, Ella, I’d probably never sleep again. I’d never even be able to breathe. So, if he’s getting back to everything easily but he’s safe, then that has to be a good thing.”

 

She was still pretty confused. Honestly, she thought now that she knew more about Lucifer that Chloe’s hesitance was about Lucifer being obviously devil-y in public, which wasn’t a good thing. But Lucifer was the Devil (both their big problem but at least a safe thing) so shouldn’t he be able to deal with public exposure? Okay, so maybe Lux wouldn’t be popular anymore, except for the super goths and emos. But no one could possibly hurt him except maybe God or his siblings…then again, he had been shot and she’d seen it. She’d been there as he’d bled out and even been so wrecked he’d spit blood back into his martini glass.

 

How had that even happened if a being were immortal, right?

 

Was there such a thing as immortal but with caveats?

 

Ella sighed, wishing she knew anything lately, and hugged Chloe tightly. “One day, he has to go back to the field. It’s just a dangerous job. We’ve all had close calls, every one of us. If he takes risks, then it’s his choice.”

 

“And I can’t have him bleed out in front of me again. After Malcolm and after Lux, I just can’t watch him bleed out because of me again. Maybe having a civilian consultant at all was nuts.”  


“No way!” Ella exclaimed pulling back and letting her arms drop free. “You two have the best solve rate in the precinct. Whatever you all have going works.” And if they could get the tail and random bumps and whatever else problems fixed, no matter what Heaven’s stupid books said about “acceptance,” then things could go back to the way they were. Couldn’t they? “You can’t let that just go away.”

 

“If it keeps him alive, then I can find other ways to investigate. I’m a pretty good detective on my own.”

 

“It’d crush him,” she admitted, thinking of the raw pain laced through Lucifer’s growl when he’d begged not to be treated like a child. “He loves this.”

 

“I…weird that he would, you know? Lux has everything that a guy could want. The first year or so, Dan just bitched forever about how Lucifer was screwing around here but he could go home and do anything he wanted. But I know it matters to him, that using his skillset to help people really matters to him.”

 

Ella nodded even though she couldn’t say more yet. Considering how scared Lucifer was of becoming a monster, it was quite obvious to her that helping with getting justice and not just doling out punishment meant the world to their friend.

 

“Exactly so why break up the dream team?”

 

“Because I don’t want him dead, Ella. I can’t control anything else but what I let him do, and I can sleep with that. I can’t sleep if he dies because of me.” Chloe frowned again. “Speaking of sleep…is it _just_ the Whitmore case dragging you down?”

 

Ella sighed and offered Chloe what small bit of mostly truth she could bluff her way through. “Remember my ghost friend?” She whispered that last part as if what she were saying was profane somehow, when, to be fair, Azrael was an angel so anything but blasphemous.

 

Still, it was odd to say out loud to anyone about Rae Rae, even if Chloe had been cool with it. Ella still expected to be treated by her friend the way her family looked down on and pitied her. It just seemed natural when you were the “crazy girl.”

 

“Yeah?” Chloe asked, her voice calm and kind, the same way Ella had heard her a million times comforting victims.

 

“She apparently has uh brother too. I guess he must have finally crossed the threshold because he’s popped up in my life. Maybe I just am a medium for one family?” Not completely a lie. “It was hard enough to have one paranormal thing in my life, and I’m not sure I can handle having two hang off me. I mean, sometimes I get mad me friend Rae R…that my friend Rae ever singled me out to talk to, you know? I’m not sure if I’m ready for her brother too.”

 

Chloe quirked her head at her, and Ella couldn’t read pity in her eyes at least. The detective seemed to be running through the correct way to respond to Ella’s concerns, the best way not to spook her. “Maybe you can see both of them because you’re special. I’m not kidding, Ella, I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff. A lot. And someone who can talk to ghosts is the least of it.”

 

Ella knew that was true now.

 

“Yeah but…”

 

“If you need a break from it, then that’s up to you. If this Rae is as good a friend as you say she is---dead or not---then she’ll give you the space you need to nurture your normal life and keep her brother off your back too. If they’re more using you---”

 

“They’re not!”

 

“Well, if they can’t give you time to adjust for yourself and feel comfortable, then they’re not exactly helping.” Chloe shrugged. “If they were just humans overwhelming you, you’d say ‘hey, I need a break,’ wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yeah, but I’m all they have.”

 

“But you’re no good to them or to the force if you get super stressed and break down either, are you?”

 

She let out a shuddering breath and was grateful that, this time, Chloe was the one hugging her. “That’s pretty true. I just…I want to help everybody, but I feel like I’m drowning, Chloe.”

 

“I’ve been there.” Chloe pulled back a little but still rubbed a small circle against Ella’s back. She wondered if this was how Chloe also dealt with an upset Trixie. If so, Chloe really was pretty awesome at being motherly. “But you can’t help anyone if you crash. So, Ella, ghost or human, just let your friends know what you need.”

 

_Does that apply to angels?_

 

Ella nodded and sniffled through her answer. “Thanks, that means a lot, especially that you don’t think I’m nuts.”

 

“Trust me,” Chloe said, finally stepping back. “After everything I’ve seen, a couple of ghosts is nothing. Now, can we do one more prep for the trial tomorrow. I don’t want the Giorettis to walk.”


End file.
